A few months ago I ran an Evil Eddy contest here in the Lab Rats archives. The winner was TheMeepyFreak with her story "Waiting." It was brilliant. TheMeepyFreak is a fantastic writer, and if you haven't read her stories yet you should drop what you're doing and go do that now.

Anyway, I got swamped in other work and took a while working out the sibling bonding story she requested. Add that to a month's worth of writer's block and you get . . . late. But TheMeepyFreak was extremely understanding, for which I am eternally grateful.

Rated K plus, but there are a few physical confrontations, a couple of injuries, and some name-calling; there's bullying in this story, so beware. This story takes place not long after "Commando App," so closer to the beginning of season one.

After over a month and a half's wait, I present to you, Guardian Angels, dedicated to the lovely author mentioned above. I don't own Lab Rats. Enjoy!

* * * Guardian Angels * * *

"Hey, nerd! Where do you think you're going?"

Chase froze. He always thought that was a weird way to explain someone stopping suddenly, but now he understood it. Someone might as well have dumped a bucket of ice water down the back of his shirt. He turned on his heel to face his target—or rather the creature of which he was the target. Chase Davenport, mission leader, had spent his childhood learning how to face dangerous enemies, but nothing could prepare him for a match against his current opponent: Trent Darby, Mission Creek High's famed quarterback.

"What do you want, Trent?" he said in a bored tone, hoping to deflect the football player's wrath.

"What, I can't just say hi?" Trent asked, an odd smile sliding across his face.

"That wasn't what you said."

"Look, Chase, buddy," Trent said, placing a hand on Chase's shoulder, "I think we got off on the wrong foot. Gotta check out the new competition around here, you know what I'm saying?"

"Competition?" Chase was beyond confused, and that was abnormal for him. Though, since he had come to high school earlier in the month, he had been encountering many new experiences that left him baffled. Teenagers were strange creatures, he had decided.

Trent's arm slid further around Chase's neck and he moved in closer. It started to make Chase uncomfortable. Why was this decidedly unkind football player being so friendly with him?

"I do it with all the new kids," Trent continued. "There are lots of hot chicks around here, you know? And of course they look up to me. Gotta make sure you won't steal any of my popularity." He flashed a grin, which only made Chase even more uneasy. "Look, Chase, you're actually pretty cool. I passed you off as just another nerd, but you're a decent football player. Why don't you join us after school at the football field?"

Chase started smiling for a moment, but then it disappeared. "So you insulted me when you walked up, and now you expect me to just follow you anyway?"

Trent laughed, a big, hearty laugh. "I needed to get your attention somehow. I knew you'd answer to 'nerd.' But just think . . . if you hang out with us, you'll be something a lot more." He drew his hand through the air. "Think of the popularity, the power . . . the ladies." He jostled Chase with the arm around his neck.

"That does sound nice . . . but Leo says you're a bully."

Trent's face contorted into a pout. "That's only because he's always showing me up in class. We all have our strengths. Mine's not in there." He gestured to one of the nearby classroom doors. "I've gotta get back at him somehow." Seeing Chase's doubtful expression, he added, "Oh, come on, give me a chance. I'm not so bad once you get to know me."

"Okay," Chase said, hesitation causing his voice to waver. "Sure. Out at the football field?"

"Right after school," Trent said, nodding. "All the guys will be there. It'll be a lot of fun, I promise."

They parted ways shortly afterwards. The bell rang a few seconds later and Chase started down the hall to his advanced chemistry class. His mind whirled with all the jumbled thoughts. Trent wanted him to play football with the rest of the team? Would he really be popular?

Deep in his mind, Chase was subconsciously aware of the fact that it was actually Spike who was the relentless football player Trent knew. Still, his brain argued, Spike was a part of him. An angry, merciless, volatile part that he had never actually met despite—and probably because of—the fact that they shared a body. Still, maybe Chase could tap into that violent side somehow. Or he would just use his mathematical analysis. That almost worked last time.

Regardless, Chase was excited that popularity was almost within his grasp.

Chase simply told his siblings that he was meeting some friends after school. He didn't mention that those "friends" were Trent and the football team. He didn't say that he was going to the football field either. He just told his siblings that he would stay at school for a few hours hanging out with some people he had met.

"Aw, did you finally make friends?" Bree said, grinning at him playfully.

"Let's hope so," Chase muttered under his breath.

"This is some kind of practical joke, isn't it?" Adam asked. "No way you made friends."

Chase sighed. "All I know is I'm meeting them here when school's over."

"Which would be now," Leo pointed out.

"Right. I'll be back home at . . ." Chase realized that Trent hadn't given him a time. Oh well. He was mature enough to be home at a reasonable time. "Probably around six. Yeah. That'll give us time to train tonight. Tell Mr. Davenport not to worry; I'll be there."

"Fine," Bree said with a shrug. "FYI, they might only want you to help them with their homework." She patted his shoulder before turning and walking to the door.

"Bye, Chase," Leo said as they left the school.

Chase gave a grim smile and waited for them to get all the way through the door. Then he turned around and headed to the other side of the school. Once he got outside, he headed to the Mission Creek High football field. The players were in the center, stretching and chatting with one another. It didn't look like a formal practice; more like a friendly meeting.

Maybe this was a mistake, Chase thought as he put his backpack on the bleachers. No way they actually want you to join them . . . right?

Despite his thoughts, Chase found himself wandering closer and closer to Trent's group. If nothing else, he was curious. He didn't honestly know if this was a good idea or not; he really didn't understand high schoolers. He wanted to learn. Here was his chance.

"Hi, Trent," Chase said as he walked up.

"Chase, buddy!" Trent said with a leering smile. He tossed the football to one of his friends and ran up to Chase. "Glad you could make it. I was just telling the guys about you."

"Really?"

'Of course. We even have something very special to give you. Brett! Where's the . . . thing?"

A sturdy blonde senior waddled over with a large bucket in his arms. He placed it on the ground and grinned. Chase began to get that uncomfortable feeling again. Even from his spot about ten feet away, he could see the contents of the bucket.

"Baseballs? I thought we were going to play football."

"Yeah, change of plans." Trent backed up, the frightening grin never leaving his face. Some of the other football players had reached into the bucket and pulled out a ball or two.

With a rush of adrenaline, Chase realized what was going on. He stood in the center of the field, alone. In front of him was a long line of athletes with rock-hard balls in their hands, each with that creepy smile.

Of course you never fit in with them. Why did you think you would? You walked right into a trap. Nice going.

"Get 'im, boys!" Trent hollered.

Chase's eyes widened as the balls came flying from all directions. They seemed to be coming from everywhere at once as they collided with his body. He covered his face on instinct, but that didn't stop the flying projectiles. His first thought was to use his force field to stop them, but his second thought reminded him that he couldn't expose his bionics. If only, Chase thought desperately as another ball slammed into his shoulder.

Along with the sudden torrent of baseballs, there were several verbal assaults. Most of them were the typical "nerd" or "geek" accusations. There were a few that began calling him an "idiot" or "stupid" and other words like that—some much crasser. Chase tried to block them out, but they were pounding their way into his mind the same way the baseballs were pounding his body.

Dolt . . .

Gullible . . .

Moron . . .

Foolish, foolish! And you're mission leader? Could you possibly be more stupid? Letting them trick you like that? Ignoramus!

Those last words can from his own brain. It was that thought that finally made him snap.

Chase turned and fled the field, trying to block out the laughter of Trent and his friends. He grabbed his backpack from off the bleachers as he ran past. He didn't even know where he was going, but he knew that he needed to get away from here. As he ran, one final ball hit him square between the shoulders. He almost fell over into the mud, but was able to put out a foot and stop himself just in time.

"We would never be friends with a loser like you!"

Chase didn't even need to have super-hearing to catch Trent's last insult.

The walk home was a dreary one. The clouds rolling across the sky seemed to match Chase's mood. He paid them no mind, however. Instead he began to focus on the red marks all over his body. He was fortunate that no balls had hit him in the face. All over his arms, however, were large bruises that would only get worse as the day went on. Chase sighed and continued walking, ignoring the searing pain that shot across his body with every step.

The chilly February wind nipped at his cheeks and rustled the leaves near his feet. There was a heat wave forecasted to come in over the weekend, but that was still a few days away. For now, it was cold. Chase stopped for a moment and pulled his jacket out of his backpack. Not only would it keep him warm, but it would also cover up those bruises. Maybe then his family wouldn't ask questions about them.

His family.

Chase totally forgot! What was he supposed to say to them? Adam, Bree, and Leo would be so disappointed that he went to hang out with Trent. They would probably tease him for it. And Mr. Davenport wouldn't be happy to find out Chase had gotten himself hurt and into a confrontation where he risked his bionics being exposed. He didn't even want to imagine that conversation with his father. Hey, at least Spike didn't come out again!

Those thoughts slowly began to vanish as he trudged up the hill towards the Davenport mansion. Chase's brain became a jumbled-up mess that could only be described in one word: fearful. His fingers fumbled for the doorknob and he entered the living room.

Adam and Leo were sitting on one end of the couch, arguing about whose video game character killed whose. Bree was at the other end, flipping through one of her girly magazines and rolling her eyes at her brothers every so often.

"Hey, Chase," she said as he walked by, her eyes never leaving the pages upon pages of gossip-filled articles.

Chase muttered a greeting in response, shuffling past and hoping he wouldn't gain their attention. He didn't. Luckily, they didn't seem to notice that he was home two and a half hours before the time he had told them. Please don't call me back. He was going . . . going . . . and he made it to the elevator. He hopped inside, leaned back against the wall, and sighed.

Chase got lucky. Mr. Davenport was at a meeting that evening, so there was no training. Chase made it all the way through dinner without saying anything to put his family on edge. Later he was doing his homework in the lab when his siblings decided to pay him a visit.

Bree was quick to the point. "What's the matter with you?"

"Huh?" he asked, looking up from his parabolas.

"You were quiet all through dinner," Bree replied, hopping up onto the cyberdesk. "Not even one word about the formation of calcium acetate."

Chase smirked. "And how do you even know what that is?"

Bree just scowled. "Skip it."

"Yeah, you didn't even say anything when Adam got spaghetti sauce all over his mouth," Leo added.

"I got a picture of it!" Adam said with a proud smile. He pulled out his phone and tried to show it to Chase, but he just pushed it away.

"So?" he asked.

"So we were just wondering why you seem so upset," Leo said. "And why you've still got a coat on. Big D's got the temperature in the lab up so high even the cockroaches are sweating."

Bree's face wrinkled. "Ew. You didn't see any, did you?"

"It was just an expression."

"I'm just cold, okay?" Chase muttered. He stared down at the functions written across his paper, but his mind was buzzing and he couldn't focus on the numbers he loved so much.

"Leo, you just can't explain him," Adam said. "Short, scrawny, weak . . . Chase is a weirdo."

It was different coming from Adam. Chase expected that—not that he didn't expect it from Trent, deep down. Still, Adam was his brother. They were allowed to tease each other like that. Chase had made fun of Adam's intelligence many times. No matter what they said, they still loved each other.

Of course, it wasn't always speaking. Sometimes there were physical confrontations as well. Like now. Before Chase could register what was going on, Adam's fist swung out and hit him in the arm . . . right on one of the bruises.

Instinctively, Chase howled. He started to rub his bicep and glare at Adam. Normally he could take those kinds of hits without a flinch—he was stronger than his siblings gave him credit for—but added on to his other injuries, it was nearly unbearable.

"What was that about?" Adam asked. "I do that all the time!"

"Well knock it off, would you?" Chase growled.

"You get weaker by the day."

"Um, Chase, what's that on your arm?"

Leo's comment made Chase pause. He looked down to see that his coat sleeve had rolled up a bit, and now the edge of one of his bruises was visible. Adam forcefully grabbed his arm and rolled up the rest of the sleeve, revealing the whole thing. Without a word, he pulled Chase's coat clean off. Now, with only a t-shirt as protection, his siblings could see all of the marks on his arms.

"What happened?" Leo yelped after a couple seconds.

"Nothing," Chase murmured, but he could see they weren't buying it. He sighed. What did he have to lose now? "Trent happened."

"Did he break up the little meeting you were having with your new friends?" Leo asked, fear causing his voice to waver.

For a moment, Chase thought he could go along with that little lie. They wouldn't have to know that he had gone to Trent willingly.

"Trent and his buddies were the 'friends' you were going to see, weren't they?"

Drat. His sister knew them too well.

"You went straight to a bully and he beat you up," Bree continued.

"He threw baseballs at me, technically," Chase corrected.

"I don't get it," Adam interrupted.

"Shocker," Bree muttered under her breath.

Adam ignored her. "Why would you want to hang out with Trent?"

"I'm with Adam on this one," Leo said.

"I thought . . . I mean, he said . . . he said he could make me popular." Chase rubbed the back of his neck. "I know it was stupid to go with him. He lured me to the football field and, well, this happened." He held out his arms. "It was really dumb of me, I know. Go ahead and make fun of me now."

Bree walked up slowly. She grabbed her brother's arm and examined his injuries. She met his gaze. "Trent did this to you?"

"Trent and his football pals, yeah."

She dropped his arm and set her jaw. "Adam, Leo, come on."

"So you're just going to leave me down here? Fine, go make fun of me behind my back."

"Get back to your graphing!" Bree called as she left, Adam and Leo trailing behind her. Leo turned back for a second and shrugged before following his step-siblings out of the lab.

Chase just sighed and turned back to his math. He started graphing the cubic functions, but his heart wasn't in it. His hand was moving automatically, unconsciously. It wasn't fun like homework usually was. His mind was on other things. Chase supposed he could use his super-hearing to listen in on their conversation upstairs, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. They were probably making fun of him, after all.

Although, Bree's face had been surprisingly serious. The few times he had seen her get that look were followed by either him or Adam rolling around on the floor in pain. Mr. Davenport said it was her "game face." Bree claimed it was her "I'm-going-to-murder-you" face.

Why on earth would she be making it now?

"What were you planning?" Chase asked when Bree came back into the lab. She was alone, he noticed.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

Chase leaned on his capsule and let out a long sigh. His pajamas were comfortably fitted around his body, and their length covered up any remaining red—and slowly turning purple—marks. Nonetheless, his body was still stiff and sore. Hopefully a night in his capsule would do him good.

"You look like you're trying to keep a secret. And either you were making fun of me or you were planning something. I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt."

"I don't see how you were doing that either way." She sighed. "You were pelted with baseballs this afternoon. I think you've been made fun of enough for one day."

Chase smirked. "So you admit that you were planning something."

"I never said that."

"But you are."

"Okay, I am. I'm trying to figure out a way to make you shut up permanently." She gave him an icy-cold death glare, which had the opposite effect it was meant to; he burst out laughing.

"Seriously, though," he said, his expression becoming sober. "Don't try anything. If you want revenge on Trent, don't do it."

"I'm not saying we're going to do anything, but why not?"

"It's . . . Trent! You'll only get yourselves in trouble. Besides, it's fine. I've taken worse than a few baseballs."

"They didn't just throw baseballs at you."

"No, I'm pretty sure those were the only objects that hit me. Although one of them did throw a half-eaten hot dog, I think, but he missed me by a few feet."

"I'm not talking about physical things."

"Oh . . ."

"Yeah . . ." she said, raising her eyebrows. "It's Trent. No way he held himself back from insulting you."

"No, he didn't."

"Verbal attacks are the worst. Remember when Mr. Davenport told us that old saying? 'Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.' We all agreed it was a dumb saying, and not very truthful. Words can hurt. Adam said the people who use that saying should be hit by a dictionary." She laughed softly.

"But Adam attacks me verbally all the time."

"That's different. Trent isn't trying to be funny—or at least, not in the same way Adam is. And he won't apologize or play video games with you to make up for it. He'll also never save your life on a mission, which Adam has done several times in those simulations."

"True."

"Look, Chase, Mr. Davenport said high school would be hard. Remember what I said when we were finally allowed to go? The day Spike showed up?"

"On TV, the new girl always drops her books and the cute guy with the soulful eyes picks them up?" Chase flashed her a teasing grin.

"No." Bree scowled.

"I know, I know. One for all and all for one. So what, we haven't made you look bad yet? You said you'd drop us if that happened."

"It hasn't happened yet, shockingly."

"Please, Bree, don't get involved."

"Oh, Chase." Bree walked closer and patted his shoulder before slipping into her capsule. A sly smile graced her features. "You're too late; you always forget that you're never as fast as me. You're too late."

"'Sup, nerd?" Trent hollered from the opposite side of the cafeteria as he jogged over.

Chase cringed. Was this just going to be a repeat of yesterday? Most of his bruises were healed—thanks in no small part to his capsule—but he wasn't ready for another humiliation, especially here, for the whole school to see.

"Look, buddy, sorry about yesterday. Gotta keep the guys entertained, you know? So how about after school you and I go down to the creek and—"

"Forget it, Trent."

"Come on, Chase, don't be such a fun-killer."

"My siblings have been calling me that for years. You're not going to change my mind." Chase picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, heading for the cafeteria doors. A hand pressed firmly on his shoulder stopped him.

"Let me put this another way," Trent hissed in his ear. "You will be coming down to the creek with me. You're not going to ruin my fun."

Chase stiffened, unsure of what to do next. Deny Trent and incur more of his wrath? Run away? Simply nod his head and try to get out of it later?

As it turned out, he didn't have to decide what to do. A new face came through the cafeteria doors—a face Chase was all too happy to see. "Hey, Trent," Adam said as he walked closer.

"What do you want?" Trent asked, his eyes narrowing.

"There's something in the hallway you have to see!"

"A nerd being embarrassed?"

"I was thinking a shiny purple unicorn, but sure, that works too." Adam led Trent and Chase towards the cafeteria doors. A light tug from his brother kept Chase walking a bit behind Trent—he wondered why.

As they exited the cafeteria, the very second he walked through the doors, Trent fell flat on his face. He groaned and pushed himself up, looking around wildly at the other students, who were already starting to stare.

"Here, let me help you up," Adam said, crouching next to the quarterback.

Out of the corner of his eye, Chase saw Leo crouched behind the trash can next to the lockers. His hand hovered in midair, and his fingers appeared to be curled around something. A quick scan proved Chase's suspicions correct: a razor-thin wire hung several inches above the floor. Carefully he stepped over it, just in time to see what else his siblings were up to.

Adam helped Trent up, but he did more than that. With little to no effort at all, Adam hurled Trent into the lockers on the other side of the room. The football player groaned and pulled himself to his feet.

It wasn't over yet, though. Seemingly by magic, Trent was suddenly wearing a clown afro on his head. "What the—?" he screamed, reaching up to touch it. That wasn't the end of it. Next came lipstick smeared all over his mouth, then a tutu around his waist, then his precious football jersey was shredded, and finally he was soaked with something that clearly wasn't water. All these things happened instantaneously with no clear object causing them.

As the students began to laugh at the mess that was Trent Darby, Bree ran in from the cafeteria, acting like she had just entered the room for the first time. Trent was staring down at his outfit, and then he began to look frantically from student to student. His face was beet red.

"Principal Perry!" he shrieked, running towards her office.

"Wow!" Chase said, trying to hold back his laughter. "That was . . . great. You guys really risked exposing your bionics just for me?"

"Somebody's gotta stick up for you, little bro," Adam said with a grin.

"You're our brother," Bree said. "When Trent hurts you, he hurts all of us."

"I've always wanted to know what it's like to have siblings to protect me," Leo added. "Now I've got you guys. I love that you take care of me, but I've got to take care of you too."

"Thanks," Chase said. "Really. I don't even know how I can properly thank you guys."

Adam, Bree, and Leo exchanged sly looks. Then Adam said, "How about you do our homework all week?" All three proceeded to give him the puppy-dog eyes.

Chase laughed. "Fine, fine. But only because you got revenge on Trent for me." And because homework is so much fun.

"Did you see Trent's face?" Leo said after a few seconds. "Maybe this will work out for me too!"

"I think I could've tossed him a bit farther," Adam murmured. "Should've left a good dent, you know? I went too easy."

"My favorite part was the tutu," Bree said. "I found it funny that it actually fit him. Smearing lipstick all over his face . . . yeah, that was weird." She pursed her lips and shook her hand like it was the most disgusting thing she had ever seen.

Chase just laughed again. He had a strange family. Still, they were a wonderful family. He knew that he could always count on his siblings to be there for him, and he would be there for them too. No one could separate them. When you messed with one, you messed with them all. They watched over each other. They took care of each other. They loved each other.

Like guardian angels.

So? Did you like it, TheMeepyFreak? How about everyone else? I'm actually pretty proud of it. I was a bit worried about Trent's character at times; did I do okay? Poor Chase, huh? So gullible. Although I think it worked out that I wound up posting this on April Fool's Day. XD Still, who else is glad Adam, Bree, and Leo avenged him?

Wow, over 4,000 words! Sweet! I think I might be back, guys. Take that, writer's block! I'll be working on "One Year" so I can have it ready by the ninth. Then I'll work on "In Need of a Healer," and WDF after that. So be on the lookout for those! Hopefully I'll be able to get those done. I'm sick of struggling with writer's block. It really sucks.

I want to give a final thank you to everyone who participated in the Evil Eddy contest. I had so much fun reading your entries, and I loved them all. We're a very creative community. I'm so happy to be a part of it. :3

Special thanks to second-place winner, "Pandora's Box" by Writer207, and third-place winner, "The Lurking One" by Tor Raptor. Don't forget to check out those stories as well!

So anyway, did you guys like it? Reviews are appreciated, of course. Don't forget to check out "Waiting" and TheMeepyFreak's other stories! See you all soon, hopefully. Bye! :D