Chapter Four
"I'm telling you, Charlie, you should have seen the Big Guy here! Cute little bow on his tail and everything!" Vinnie slapped the counter and howled with laughter. Beside him, Charlie and Throttle laughed at the story, while Modo grinned sheepishly and reminded himself that tackling his bro in the busy bar wouldn't really be acceptable.
It had been three days since the attack on Charlie. As was usual, they were all gathered in the Warehouse for dinner and a few drinks.
Nearby, a couple of drunks hooted as they pushed at a young man. Charlie noticed and raised an eyebrow towards Dugger. The bouncer gave her a thumbs-up from across the room, signaling that he had his eye on the group. A little friendly roughness was normal, in fact almost expected, in the bar, as long as it didn't get out of hand. Satisfied, she turned back to her drink.
Unexpectedly, the drunks tripped their victim as he tried to escape to the bar. He fell and caught himself, in the process knocking over several drinks on the counter. Charlie swore and shoved away as the alcohol flowed toward her.
"Oh, shit. Did you get wet, Charlie?" Gaia appeared with cloths and began to wipe up the mess.
Charlie shook her head ruefully as she waved off the apologies of the poor young man. From the corner of her eye, she saw Dugger calmly but forcefully begin to escort the drunken group out. Pushing was fine; nearly drenching the Commander was not. Rank was good for something, at least. "Nah, I'm fine. Just soaked my gloves. See if you can find me something to dry these off with, okay?" She stripped of the fingerless gloves that she was never without, and grabbed a towel to dry her hands.
All of a sudden, Throttle grabbed her arm. She opened her mouth to tell him off, but he beat her to it. "Where'd ya get the tattoo, Charlie-girl?" The hush of his voice caught his bros' attention, and they both turned to stare at the arm he held.
On the underside of her wrist, just below where her palm met her arm, was a small green tattoo. It was an odd symbol, and clearly hadn't originated on Earth. Throttle hadn't noticed it before, because her gloves were just long enough to cover it completely.
Charlie snatched her arm from Throttle's grasp. "It's none of your business." Her harsh voice cut through the noise of the room like a knife, and everyone fell silent, watching the small group at the bar with careful curiosity.
Wordlessly, Throttle untied the bandanna wrapped around his own wrist. There, in the same place, was a similar green tattoo. "There's only one place to get that mark, Charlie. Why didn't ya tell us you were in a prison camp?" Modo and Vinnie both gasped, and stared into her face.
She growled. "This isn't the place. It's none of your business, but we'll take this outside." She turned to face the quiet room, and glared. Everyone began to talk again, loudly and nervously. With that, she grabbed the still-wet gloves and stalked out. The Mice followed.
"Charlie-ma'am," Modo began.
"Not here. I don't need my fighters to hear this." She jumped onto her bike and took off, leaving the Mice to hurriedly grab their own and follow her.
Charlie led them to a nearby park that had been left virtually untouched by the war. Leaving Baby Doll against an old oak, she leaned on the other side of the trunk, arms and legs crossed defensively. "So, what do you want to know?"
Vinnie scratched the back of his head. "Cheese, Charlie-girl. Why didn't ya tell us?" When she didn't answer, but stared out over the lake, Modo nudged his bro.
"When, Charlie-ma'am? Could ya at least tell us that?"
She let out a heavy breath, refusing to meet their eyes. "A few months after you left, Limburger figured out that you weren't coming back, so he sent his goons around to the garage. They broke in and caught me by surprise, hauled me back with them. You weren't here to break in and save me like usual, so I was on my own. Got sent to that prison camp I told you about, the one on the moon, for a year. Gunner, Baby Doll's original owner, was in the cell next to mine, and he helped me escape. I tried to get him out too, but he didn't make it. He sent Baby with me, and I couldn't have gotten out without her. I made it home, and took a bunch of top-level secret information with me. That's why the damn fish-faces began to attack the way they did. Couldn't let me make it off with what I knew. I threw together a resistance group, the Plutarkians killed off the military types, and I took over because the humans needed someone to lead them. That's it, end of story. Happy now?" Her voice broke off, and she looked down, studying her boots.
"No, I'm not." Throttle grasped her shoulder gently. "I don't understand why ya didn't tell us. I thought we were-"
"Friends?" Charlie laughed bitterly. "I didn't want you to feel guilty. I knew you would, and you didn't need that on your shoulders. I got over it, got myself fixed up. I'm fine now. Okay? If you're finished with the interrogation, I'd really like to be alone now."
"All right, Sweetheart." Vinnie's usually exuberant voice was quiet. "But if you ever want to talk about it, we're here for ya. You know that." Modo brushed a soft hand over her hair, then silently followed his bro to the bikes. She heard them exchange muted words with Throttle, and then they started up, and left. Now, there was only-
"They raped you, didn't they." It wasn't a question.
She glanced up at Throttle. "Why's it matter if they did? I survived everything they did to me."
"It took me a while to figure it out. You don't get touched a lot; most of the fighters aren't about to hug their commander. But whenever one of us does, or Jack, you freeze up for a sec. It's not noticeable to someone who doesn't know you. We know you. And maybe you've forgotten, but my people have been at war with these bastards for a long time, and I've seen what they do to women in the camps."
She nodded. "I see."
He reached over and grasped her other shoulder. "Don't tense up, Charlene. I've also seen the state some of our own were in when we got them out. There wasn't a single Mouse, male or female, who wasn't "worked" on by the goddamn scientists. I can't think that this camp would be any exception. Am I right?" His voice was gentle and low. When she shook her head, he tightened his hold minutely. "Yes, Charlene. Now. Trust me when I tell you it will help."
"The scientists never had a real chance to play with a human woman before. It was like putting a kid in a candy store. They couldn't wait to find out what made me tick. Throttle, you're hurting me."
Throttle realized that his grasp on her shoulders had tightened unconsciously. He took a deep breath and loosened it. "Sorry."
"S'okay. Anyway, they amused themselves with me and my innards for several months, then threw me in a cell and only took me out when they thought of something new to try."
"Charlie-girl, I want you to look at me."
Left no real choice, she raised her head and looked into his eyes. He'd removed his field specs, and the sight of those deep garnet eyes dredged up memories of the night before he'd left Earth. She bit her lip and shoved the thoughts from her head.
"I'm gonna to hug you, okay? Just hug you; that's all." And bending down, Throttle wrapped his arms tenderly around her. At the sweet gesture, Charlie felt her eyes tear up, and her chest began to hurt from holding in the sobs that wanted so much to come out. He noticed her efforts, and stroked a hand down her back. "Cry if ya need. I'm here for ya."
And she did. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she cried the tears that she had refused to cry five years ago, when they had hurt her, and humiliated her. She cried tears for the soldiers she had sent out to die against the Plutarkians. And she cried for the many times she had yearned for Throttle's presence, for the Bikers' presence. She cried quietly, but for a long time.
Throttle had shifted so that she cuddled in his lap, and he sat with his back against the tree. She became aware of the soft, comforting nothings he whispered in her ear as he cradled her. And of the tender kisses he dropped on her brow.
When she moved, he released her, allowing her to lean away and look up at him. "Throttle, I-"
"You've been holdin' things in too long, Charlie-girl. It's not healthy." He placed a furred hand on her cheek as he studied her. "I think that helped. We get it out by cursin' and yellin', and punchin' walls and each other. You keep everything bottled up tight. We're always here for you now, remember that." He touched his lips to her forehead, and to her cheek, and her nose, then stopped and stared into her eyes. "Charlie-girl," he whispered.
Charlie couldn't move away. This was what she'd longed for so many years ago. She could feel herself moving closer, just as he did. Their lips touched. And again. And again until the separate kisses bended into one long stream of heaven.
Finally, she managed to break free of the hold desire held over her. She turned her head away, and pressed her brow into his shoulder. "I can't do this. I'm sorry, Throttle. I just can't."
She could feel his muscles tense. Could feel him fighting his own cravings. Finally though, he released her, and nodded. "Okay. I understand."
She took a deep breath. "I'd like to go home now."
"Sure."
* * *
After stopping by the Warehouse to pay the tab they'd forgotten, Vinnie and Modo arrived back at the now-deserted Garage. After thumbing the switch to raise the door, Vinnie jumped off his bike and punched the nearest wall. "Damnit!" he growled.
Modo dragged up a weak grin. "Didn't make a hole. I guess they've reinforced this place enough so it's even Vinnie-proof." When the smaller Mouse turned toward him, fire in his eyes, he held his hands out. "Sorry. Look, you wanna fight? We can fight. But not in here, okay? I'm not gonna wreck Charlie-girl's headquarters just because we're pissed about a secret she kept from us."
"But it's not just a secret!" Vinnie howled. "She spent almost a year in a goddamn prison camp, and she didn't tell us!"
"So she finally told you, did she?" Jack McCyber came out from the back room. "I was wondering when she'd break down."
"We saw the prison tattoo on her wrist." Modo's eye gleamed a deep, burning red in the dim light, and it was easy to see the effort he was putting into keeping his calm. "She gave us the bare bones. I take it you know more?"
Jack shook his head wearily. "I was there when she made it home. Took her weeks to get back on her feet. Luckily, the Martians who helped her escape the camp got her to a good med-tech. They had to replace a lot of stuff." His hands clenched. "Whenever I think about it, I want to hunt down the bastards who did it and rip their guts out with my bare hands."
"Hold on a sec. What'd they replace?" Vinnie wanted to know. "I didn't see any metal parts on her.
Jack caught himself. "Sorry. I probably shouldn'ta even told you that much. Charlie would kick my ass if she knew." When the two Mice scowled, he held up his hands. "Look, Charlie keeps her secrets to herself, and I'm not gonna snitch on her. She'll tell you when she's good and ready."
The conversation was interrupted by the roar of two bikes. The three jumped upright when Charlie and Throttle drove into the Garage. Charlie took her helmet off and looked Modo and Vinnie squarely in the eyes. "You guys should head out. You need to be in by curfew," she added, referring to the city-wide safety curfew that required everyone to be home by one a.m."
"You okay, Sweetheart?" Vinnie glanced guiltily at the dents in the wall. She followed his gaze and smiled, then placed a soft kiss on his cheek.
"Yeah. Thanks." She included Modo and Throttle in her quiet gratitude. They nodded and reached for their own helmets. Throttle paused briefly to place a hand against her cheek, and she leaned into it momentarily. Then she straightened and pointed toward the street. "Home, guys. I don't want to have to haul you in for breaking any of my own rules."
And with that, as though nothing had happened, she turned and headed up the ladder, leaving the Mice nothing to do but gun their engines and start back to the scoreboard.
* * *