26 Going On 17

The Morphin' Grid Hates Skittles.

Previously on 26 Going On 17:
"Will you be able to get to the lab?" The red ranger asked, worry etched in his face. Tommy nodded wordlessly, standing up and almost falling, but managing to catch himself at the last minute.

"I can get there. I'll meet you there, alright?" He asked, causing the Rangers to nod reluctantly. As the Rangers sped off, Dr. O couldn't help but to ask himself if he really was okay.
Now...
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26 Going On 17
Chapter 2: The Morphin' Grid Hates Skittles.
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Dr. O had indeed made it home safely. However, it was far from a warm welcome. When he got there, Hayley met him with a livid expression and practically growled at him, saying how stupid, careless, and some other word he didn't catch he was. Looking discretely at the red faces of Trent and Conner, he could conclude that they had just been through the same verbal beatdown. After a while, Hayley calmed down and gripped him in a hug.

"Don't you ever do that again!" She had said, letting him go after a minute,"Now sit down and don't move while I go get the first aid kit." She had given one final glare to the three that she saw were the most to blame and left upstairs. It was rather tricky to treat it, since he couldn't power down. Hayley was reluctant to cut the suit to get to the wound, but Dr. O assured her that the suit would stitch itself up after a while. Sighing, she cut a hole around the wound and gasped at what she had seen. The area around the wound was red, warm to the touch, and painful. The wound itself looked like 4 large puncture holes in a circle. What Kira had did had helped the blood flow considerably, but it still bled, especially if Tommy moved his shoulder too quick. The redhead cleaned it with hydrogen peroxide and water, wiping off the excess blood and water, which made Tommy hiss. She placed some Neosporin on the wound. Hayley then got out some cotton gauze and medicinal tape, placing them on tightly to stop the rest of the blood flow. After that, he saw his students — who were reluctant to go home — and Hayley — who almost refused but relented after a bit — off. Now, normally he couldn't go to sleep because the morph kept up his energy, but he was feeling surprisingly tired.  He barely made it up the stairs and to the couch before he was out like a light.

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Tommy came back to the world of the living when the sun came into the room. He groaned and turned over. He hadn't slept for so long, he didn't want to get up. However, he knew he had to email a bunch of stuff for the main office to leave for his sub. Groaning again, he sat up, stretching his hands above his head, but stopped when his shoulder greeted him with a sharp pain as a good morning. How nice of it.

"Ow! Fucking... hell..." He trailed off when he started to speak. He didn't know why, but his voice sounded different. It wasn't different by much, yes, but it sounded... lighter? He couldn't quite place it. He cleared his throat.

"Hello?" Nope, that still sounded weird. Now very confused, he opened his eyes and realized two important things. One, was that he wasn't morphed anymore, and two, was that he had a bunch of something in front of his eyes. On one side, Dr. O was ecstatic that he was finally free and could actually go out in the open and actually talk to other people, but on the other hand, it also gave him a feeling of dread. Whatever that mutant did, he managed to break a morph, and that was something that was worrisome, especially since it was now running loose. But, he had a bigger problem at the moment. Confused, Tommy brought his hands up and grasped whatever it was.

"Hair?" Okay, his hair grew fast, but not that fast.

"What the hell is going on..." He muttered, heaving himself off of the leather couch and reluctantly walking over to the nearest mirror, which was near the doorway. It was a house-warming present from Aisha, who had bought it in Africa before moving back to the U.S. to marry Rocky. He wouldn't admit it to himself, but he was actually scared. He was out of morph mysteriously, his voice was all sorts of jacked up, his hair was too fucking long for his taste, and now that he was up and walking, his clothing felt a bit baggier, like he lost some muscle-mass and, please not be, some height. When Tommy got close enough to the mirror to actually see his reflection, he shut his eyes. He stood there for a moment, refusing to open his eyes, refusing to face whatever was in the mirror. But he knew he couldn't just stand there like a coward. He's been through worse. Tommy opened his eyes one at a time, and managed to keep his mouth from dropping in shock. Instead of the tall, medium muscled, with spiky black hair, 25 going on 26 year old man, but the slightly shorter, toned but not nearly as muscled, shoulder-length medium dark haired, 17 going on 18 teenager he was almost a decade ago. Once he realized what had happened, he let out a groan.