11. ALL the Rangers (for reasons :D)
a muffled hmph comes out from somewhere around trini’s shoulder.
‘move your stupid bony elbow, it’s in my kidney.” trini wiggles her shoulders and contorts her spine, doing her level superhero-powered best to move into some position that keeps the point of jason’s elbow out of all of the bruises on her back and the tenderness in her ribs without also disrupting the careful balance that has her draped mostly-comfortably over kim’s side. zack is a mirror image on kim’s other side, already dead asleep.
“stop acting like you don’t want an excuse to get even closer to kim,” jason mumbles into trini’s shoulder with a yawn, his arm slung over her waist lazily. kim pinches at the mottled bruising his forearm, nails digging in hard enough to sting but brief enough to not last, and he grumbles through another yawn.
“next time we try teleporting let’s make sure we don’t drop into a canyon that doesn’t have water,” kim says with a grunt. “zack, come on, seriously, not that shoulder.” there swelling around the joint is going down already but the bruising will stay for days. none of their landings had gone particularly well, but kim’s the one who had glanced off the edge of a boulder on the way down.
trini grabs at zack’s hair and pulls– gently, but barely so– until he snuffles sleepily and allows himself to be maneuvered until his head is pillowed on kim’s stomach. he’s back to sleep in an instant, broken-but-healing nose wheezing with every breath. kim drifts off towards sleep as well, trini’s heartbeat soft and solid against her arm, one hand in zack’s hair and the other twisted into the hem of trini’s shirt. sure, they’d fallen off a cliff or two today, but billy’s mom was gone all weekend and they had the sofabed in the cranston’s basement to sleep on, so things could be worse.
“jason, i swear to god,” trini mutters, kicking out uselessly at his leg. “elbow out of kidney or i’ll break your pretty face.”
“we really need a bigger bed,” kim says sleepily, wiggling her shoulder until trini lays back down on it, breath skating over kim’s collarbone.
“guys.” billy props up onto his elbow to peer over the edge of the bed. “guys, there are three other couches.”
“shut it, cranston,” the four of them say in concert.