Our Nearest Star
Disclaimer: I don't own Lab Rats
Warning(s): Underage, Slash, Character Death (minor; mentioned only, sort of), Bullying, Hermaphrodite (both reproductive systems and genitals), Rape/Non-Con, Mpreg, Miscarriage (mentioned), Pregnancy Scares, Lactation, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Adoption (not of a baby), "Night Club Dancer" (not a stripper, an entertainer), Offensive Language (in general), OOC, No Bionics Etc. I'll add on if need be.
Pairing(s): Adam/Chase, Marcus/Sebastian, Bree/Ethan
Chapter One
The sound of tires screeching against burning pavement resounds in the background just before metal clashes against metal. Screams echo all around and a tightening of a seat belt pulls the sole survivor back, pressing the small body against the leather back seat. The car feels hot, flames beginning to appear all around engulfing everything in its path. The smell of burning leather and gas is so potent, it makes the lungs burn of a seven year old boy. A man with a black mask covering half his face yanks the door open. For a moment the boy thinks it's someone who will help them. His vision is blurred from the smoke stinging his eyes making them red around the edges. He gasps as he's pulled out and he clings to the stranger like a lifeline. If only he had known.
He can consider the possibilities because he hears it. It's a loud booming that can only mean the gas tank of his dad's car exploded. There's more screams and the head of the seven year old pokes out to look over the shoulder of the man carrying him. He sees a hand slamming against the rolled up window, his mom's hand, if the ring shinning around the fourth finger is anything to go by. It glistens in the orange light of the fire, the skin of the hand turning a charred black. He's cough uncontrollably as tears run down his pale face.
He's gently put down by the man on the cold hard ground. The man slowly takes off the ski mask to reveal a distorted face. The man smiles at him with yellowing teeth, his balding head sheen with sweat from the heat radiating from the destroyed car. A callous hand brushes his soot covered face and whispers in a disgusting voice, "You're mine now."
The small boy's bottom lip trembles, but he vaguely realizes that despite the scenery, he wasn't a little boy anymore. This was the time when it started and he tries to scurry away from the stranger as the intentions and implications of those words hit him hard. He kicks and fights but he's trapped against a tree, his back pressed to the scraping bark, the torn clothes barely stopping the rough surface from cutting into his skin. He's flipped onto his hands and knees as his jeans are ripped from him. He screams.
Chase wakes up abruptly and he springs up from the bed to sit panting breathless with his body trembling. His breathing is harsh and rapid while his heart pounds in his chest. It feels like he's not getting enough air, just on the border line of suffocating until he's dizzy.
He desperately tries to calm his beating heart, a hand over his heaving chest and the other on his flat abdomen. Feeling the sudden emptiness makes him look beside the bed where a bassinet lies at the head just near a small old night stand. Inside is a small baby with light brown hair and rosy cheeks breathing in and out evenly. He calms down just a bit but he bites his lip in worry.
Had he screamed like he had other times? Will the baby wake up? Will he scare the baby?
A knock on the door makes him look up as it slowly creaks open. Tears are freely falling from his hazel eyes and he prays against all odds it isn't him.
It isn't.
"Chase?" He hears a concerned voice call.
"In here," Chase replies hoarsely.
Marcus, one of his closest and best friends which he only has two, the other being Bree, is standing timidly at the door. When his eyes scan over his friend's wrecked form he quickly closes the door behind him and locks it, rules be damned.
"Hey, what's wrong?" He asks.
"I'm sorry it's nothing," Chase smiles; it doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"Chase," Marcus breathes worried, he hates when Chase does this.
He always pretends everything is okay when it isn't. He tries to protect the few he cares about but it's not only him anymore. Sometimes Marcus wants to makes him see reason that he's not alone, he was never alone.
Chase, though, wipes the hot tears away and he decides to preoccupy himself with the baby. He carefully lifts the small baby in his arms, the light yellow cap too big on his head that he can just see a tuft of light brown hair. The white blanket, he knitted while pregnant is wrapped securely around his son's little body. Chase nuzzles into the soft skin of his baby boy. A tiny hand wraps around his finger and his breath catches at the sight. His baby is so strong even if he's only a few hours old, he wipes new tears away.
"It was nothing, just…just a nightmare," the boy finally confesses honestly.
Marcus swallows thickly; he knows about the nightmares, he sometimes has them too. Although he knows that compared to Chase's, his nightmares are different. Nothing can truly compare to the nightmare Chase constantly lives. He doesn't dwell on it as he finally sees his best friend content holding his son.
"You look exhausted," Marcus comments.
Chase smiles, just a bit more genuine as he looks at his baby, "having a little miracle does that to people."
Marcus smiles too, just because out of all this something good came out of it.
"And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?"
"Marcus, meet Aiden," Chase introduces proudly.
"Hey there little Aiden," Marcus whispers to the sleeping baby.
Aiden shuffles in Chase's arms and sniffles before his eyes flutter open revealing familiar honey eyes.
"Oh look at you," Chase coos.
The baby blinks and looks around but he doesn't like it here, he begins to whimper just as the tears roll down his cheeks. His little mouth opens as he screams in distress. Chase smiles brightly as he bounces the baby trying to calm him.
"Looks like someone is hungry," Marcus smirks.
"Yeah? Will you help me?"
"Sure."
Chase hands the wailing baby to Marcus in order to remove his loose shirt. He lies back with a pillow supporting his still aching back and makes grabby hands for his baby boy which Marcus gladly complies having an internal freak out after holding a crying baby. Chase places Aiden by his chest and guides his swollen nipple to the small mouth shaped in an "o." When he finally tastes the milk, Aiden immediately calms down only hiccupping softly. With a free hand, Chase wipes away the stray tears.
"You're a natural," Marcus smiles and then blushes as he realizes he's witnessing something intimate of sorts.
"We were made for this, I suppose. Thanks, though, for reassuring me. I'm still kind of scared of raising Aiden alone," Chase whispers.
"You are not alone," Marcus assures, "you have me and Bree."
Just as the words are spoken, a knock on the door disrupts them and both stiffen just before a hushed "it's me" follows suit. Marcus carefully slides out the bed; not wanting to jostle and disturb Aiden's real first feeding. He quietly goes open the feeble white door and as soon as it's pulled wide open Bree walks in with a wide smile. She makes her way to the bed and climbs onto the bed, Marcus follows behind forgetting to even close the door completely leaving it ajar. Bree pulls Chase into a tight hug, mindful of the baby between them, which Chase accepts without questioning.
"I'm so proud of you," she mumbles, her pride seeping into her words.
It's Chase's turn to blush as he remembers Bree and Marcus helping him through the birth. They couldn't go to a hospital; they would've been asked too many questions. It's not like they had permission either. Chase is fine, as long as his baby is healthy and safe.
"Thank you… for helping me, I couldn't have done it without you," Chase replies sincerely.
Bree ruffles his hair only to return cooing at Aiden.
Usually they all share a room, however, tonight was supposed to be her night to work. He's grateful she's here as well as Marcus. After all they've been through they're inseparable, like they're siblings.
"Is he…?"
Chase nods, "he's a hermaphrodite but it's okay, he has me to take care of him."
"And us," Marcus adds with narrowed eyes his way.
"And you," Chase agrees.
"What's his name?"
"Aiden, my little fire," Chase answers.
Aiden's eyes slide close and his breathing slows into even puffs against Chase's chest, his tiny mouth going slack against his nipple.
"He looks like you," Bree comments.
Chase smiles, "I'm glad he does."
The door suddenly flies open and in the doorway stands their nightmare, Mr. Krane. Chase stops breathing in fear as he holds his baby closer to him.
"Seems like the brat is finally here," the man sneers.
Chase shivers at the pure disgust in the man's voice. His heart skips a beat as he realizes that both Marcus and Bree skipped their shifts to stay with him for the birth. Marcus stands up in between Krane and the bed where they are.
"Marcus," Chase hisses.
Krane smirks and he grasps Marcus' arm tightly, no doubt leaving bruises in the shape of hands.
"Let go you bastard," Marcus growls kicking at him.
Chase wishes he hadn't done that; it will only infuriate Krane more and lead to a worse outcome.
Krane laughs, "Bastard is the brat in your friend's arms."
Chase's breath hitches at that and tears well up in his eyes.
"Take that back!" Marcus yells angrily.
Krane slaps him, hard. The sound resounds in the room as he let's go of Marcus and he lands on the floor with a heavy thud barely conscious. Blood drips from his torn lip and bruises quickly form on his pale skin.
"I wasn't talking to you," Krane retorts.
"Marcus!" Bree screams.
The man's head snaps toward them and Bree takes a stand.
"I thought you were supposed to be tending to the customers," Krane adds.
"My friend is more important!" She glares with a huff.
Chase closes his eyes tightly and wishes he could stop him but he's so weak. Just as his eyes open again, he sees Krane pull out his infamous belt. Bree screams as it snaps forward and hits her. Chase carefully pulls Aiden from his chest and lays him down on the bed. He climbs down the bed and limps toward Krane just before he can hurt his friends further. His clammy hand grasps the man's bicep and the tears he's been holding back finally run down his cheeks.
"Please stop," Chase begs.
Krane stops and gladly let's go of the belt only to grab hold of the boy's hands tightly.
"K-Krane," Chase whimpers.
Krane drags him out the room and Chase can faintly hear Bree's protest as well as the beginning of Aiden's cries. He knows where Krane is dragging him to, knows the room too well.
"Krane please stop this, Aiden-"
Krane slaps him, making Chase effectively become quiet aside from the occasional sniffles.
"I will do as I please," he begins while grabbing Chase's face with a callous hand.
"I do what I please and what I want right now is you. You already know this Chase, why are you being so difficult?"
"I have a baby, please don't do this!" The boy pleads.
Chase is pushed onto the bed as Krane crawls over him to bind his hands.
"I don't give a fuck about that little bastard. Be grateful I let you keep that thing, you slut," he spits.
"D-Don't h-he's-"
"Shut up already," Krane ties a scarf around his mouth tight, tugging painfully.
Chase gasps one final time as the rest of his clothes are ripped off his shivering body.
"Tomorrow you and the others start school at Mission Creek High. Maybe I should've been easier on you but…" he trails off caressing his bruised cheek, "You needed to learn a lesson."
With that he plunges deep into the trembling body beneath him ripping a muffled scream from the boy.