An Open Mind

by Ashes2

Just because two cultures don't mesh doesn't mean they have to clash, and Charley is about to get a first hand lesson in how Martian women prefer their men. On a trip back to Earth from Mars Charley awkwardly and frustratingly falls in love, Martian style. Takes place during 'Return to Mars'.

3. Theophany

Vinnie is a traumatized little kitten, who is doing everything he can to be a capable man in a Dangerous Universe TM

And I'm back! Still not doing chapters like a normal person. You'll forgive me, I hope.

I am a very slow writer. At no point did I stop working this, even if there were a couple months when I barely got out three sentences. But when I wasn't writing, I was usually researching. Or spending ungodly amounts of time on One Look trying to find that perfect word.

...I might be kind of dramatic, as authors go.

In any case, I truly did stop working on this fic in 2016 and a bit 2017. Not by choice. It was a bit of an intense year of me. I was having multiple autoimmune flare ups and I got so sick I couldn't work any more. I could barely do much than stand up for maybe an hour a day to make myself some food. It worked out all right, though. Gave me a lot of time to reflect and acknowledge some of my own bullshit in life. I came out a mentally and physically healthier person.

Then my computer broke. And I didn't have a job.

Still had my phone, though! I wrote like a third of this on the google docs mobile app. Which was doable, but very very slow.

In additional that, however, the thing that really tripped me up for part three was that Vinnie is a really hard character to write. Even from fic to fic in this fandom, Modo and Throttle are fairly stable in their depictions. But Vinnie, everyone writes him differently. There's not a lot to grab to on there. So this is my interpretation. I just hope other people enjoy my (possibly slightly perverted) headcannons.

P.S.

R.I.P. Tumblr. You will be missed. But I sure as hell ain't going back there. My trust is gone.

Please review.

Mentions of underage sexual abuse. Only mentions, no actual scenes. Be warned.

---

Chapter Three: Theophany

When he was a boy, there were trees. Bushes too. Grasses, whose color ranged from a deep purple to a gentle blue reminiscent of Earth's atmosphere.

Vinnie wasn't sure when they started to disappear. It wasn't as if he woke up one day and they were gone. They faded, so slowly he'd hardly noticed it happening. It rained less and less. The once dense foliage receded, morphing to dark red before falling to the ground. The soil dried, and eventually, hardly anything grew.

As a child, none of this registered to him much. All he remembered was the hunger. His parents doled out smaller and smaller portions to him and his brothers everyday. His father's hands caked in red dirt, passed out fist-sized spindly mushrooms, roasted and white as their own fur. His mother lead a prayer of gratitude to the Goddess before their peasant meal.

The inherent divinity of women was never something that Vinnie questioned. There may have been moments, he would admit, that now as an adult he might have openly appreciated the female icon with more intensity than was strictly necessary. He never meant to be offensive, but how could he be anything other than himself? How could he look away when faced with her glorious, formed-from-the-touch-of-the-Goddess, perfect legs.

Charley didn't like it when he stared, and had said so on many occasions. Looking too much at a woman wasn't polite here on Earth. Vinnie tried, oh how he tried, to be as respectful as he could. But damn, Charley-girl had amazing legs.

Humans, in general, may have been shorter than Cave Mice, but there were many among them, like her, that made up for it in their proportions. He had dreams about those legs. Whenever he'd had the pleasure of her riding pinion on his motorcycle, pressed up against him, it was her legs that were the part of her he was most acutely aware of. Specifically her thighs. Hopelessly numinous, they were. He could not look away.

Once, after a long week of fighting off Limburger and his hired thugs for days, they returned to the garage ready to sleep for a month. Modo was out almost as soon as he hit the couch. Throttle settled into a recliner and could barely finish his last sentence before he was asleep. Vinnie followed Charlie to the closent in the hallway. He watched her reach upward to the top shelf where the extra pillows and blankets were kept. His eyes followed the curves of her torso, from her shoulders to her ankles.

"Gods, you're beautiful." He whispered without thinking.

When she turned back to him, somewhat awkwardly, he regretted letting his exhaltation get the better of him. Because whether she realized it or not, he truly did try to always be respectful.

Vincent was a lot of things. He was reckless, quick to judge, easily bored, and maybe a little more ardent than he was willing to admit. But he also knew, deep within the well of his being, that women were of the Goddess. It did not matter how close he was to any individual one of them. There would always be a few distinct attributes of women he could not begin to comprehend. He was aware of where this came from. There was a certain amount of (possibly unnecessary) religious orthodoxy in these lines of thought. Theses habits were a neurosis drilled in him in early childhood. Vincent, the self-titled Van Wham, worked laboriously to be what he was taught to be. Some days he was more successful than others.

Modo, whether he meant to or not, added to this part of Vincent tenfold when he made that life-changing demand of them as boys. Ever since then, Vinnie was stuck on the singular idea that life would only have meaning if he was as pious as possible. It was the requirements that the Goddess gave to her Mice: to have a family, be a father, live with the responsibilities of a man in a Mouse clan.

Before Vinnie joined into a liiash union, these were things he knew not meant for people like him. He was one of the undesirables of society. Unwanted, unneeded, and left to feast on everyone else's refuse. He was unlucky enough to live in a time where traditional piety was functionally unavailable to the majority of the population, this was even less so those born with the affliction of achromia. So he went about his days appreciating the natural beauty of the female form, tossing out an invitation to any girl he came across, and expecting little in return. He would gladly, if asked, be whatever a woman asked of him.

What made things so inaccessible in this period of history, was the women on Mars had choices. They could, and would often, pick only the most ideal embodiment of Martian perfection. And while Vinnie hadn't yet had much chance to prove that to a woman, he knew if he was given that chance he could show her that he was just as strong as any other man. Harley had given him this chance. She didn't so much need anyone in her life. For her it was more of a desire for company. The bitter cold of Martian nights were no place for a Mouse whose clan had been lost to Plutarchian conquest. The surrogate family that the Freedom fighters provided was helpful, but it was not the same a clan of one's own. In the end she chose him, and by extension his Liiashlau. Harley had told him as much, and they had barely had a chance to begin before she was taken. The memory of her was a static wound. He awoke often at night, the memory of her final scream still lingering in his ears, and would then want nothing more than to smash every piece of furniture in reach. Or, if the occasion presented itself, take his fists to anyone unlucky enough to cross his path. Or even take, without thought to the consequences, all that which Earth seemed to be so freely offering him.

Obviously, it was safer for them to stay hidden. That was always clearly the case. Maybe he was being too optimistic wanting to find some Earth woman that adventurous, but he didn't have it in him to live without hope. He'd survived too long and endured too much to let that kind of despair take over. In any case, there was no situation in which a string of one-night-stands was his first choice. Maybe it was overly sentimental of him, but he wanted the whole package. At the very least, he had to acknowledge most Earth woman wouldn't understand when he spoke the ancient prayer. They'd never have to. This environment did not have the Plutarchians to deal with in their full force. Accustomed to patterning their lives in ways that did not take in account constant protection of the family, the people of Earth lived without such fears.

Vinnie wasn't an idiot. He knew that he was just a little more of a true believer than the average Mouse when it came to these things, no matter how archaic its origin. It was his parents' fault, he would say. An easy cop-out, maybe, but he couldn't let go of the experiences he'd had as a child. He'd been born in a hovel, where superstition was more plentiful than food. Their one-father household had been too impoverished to care for a fifth son.

Though he was the youngest, when it was time for the evening prayer to asks the gods for protection through the night, he had always been pushed to the front. He was told to place the the edible fungus, a staple food in their household, on the small family shrine to the moon god Phobos.

Since before he was old enough to understand such things, his parents would speak to him of their promise to Phobos. A boy to enter the priesthood in exchange for a small share of the yearly harvest from the fields that the monks tended to. This was a mundane practice, as few of the temples residents came to be priests of their own volition. Poverty was often the most lucrative source of followers for their god. The monks were happy to exchange the fruits of their work with the community. They were acolytes of the Great Goddess' second husband. They would follow His example and work hard to keep the underprivileged from starvation.

As a child he did not know what it would mean to live as a priest. A quiet life of servitude, husbandry, and reflection; advising the masses of the best ways to live their lives in balance with the gods commands. Phobos was a farmer, as were his clergymen. He was the more peaceful of the Goddess' husbands. Rarely did he leave home, preferring instead to keep close watch over his wife and their children.

The memory of when his life was completely changed was one that Vinnie could never forget. It was a lifeless night. Dark and frightening to a small young boy. The customary sounds of chirping insects were muted, as they often were when the Deimos was not present in the sky. Off hunting meat for his wife, the grownups would say in their sing-song banter. It wasn't winter, but it was bitterly cold. Vinnie could hear his father shuffling around sleeplessly the night before. He was woken before the sunrise, when his parents' god was high in the starry sky. His father carried him to the temple, his wiry arms held tight around his son. Vinnie's clearest memory of that night was the pain in ribs from his father's strong grip, the dampness of the fur on his head and ears, and the heavy pang of salt in the air.

He was left with a barefooted stern-faced priest, whose mud colored fur matched his dull robe. Vinnie was led inside the cavernous building. Gothic images of their mythology were carved into concrete walls.

"Unlike other Mice, we live above the ground." the priest instructed. For Vinnie's benefit he spoke in the Western Plains dialect, but his accent made it clear he was not a native speaker. "We must remain close to the fields we farm."

Vinnie nodded as they kept walking, though he wasn't sure what to make of that. How could anyone be comfortable without being surrounded by walls of stone and sand? There was something unsettling about the artificial concrete.

"Tomorrow you will join us. The soil needs to be tilled. We will give you your hoe in the morning. This is to be your most important possession. Without it you cannot fulfill your duties to our god and the people."

"But..." Vinnie began in a small voice. The priest tilted his ears forward, straining to hear. "Don't you have machines for that? I seen 'em, when my daddy takes me to work with him."

"We are different than common farmers." he replied patiently. "Our work is sacred. We use no machines."

They stopped walking. The primitive kitchen appeared even more rustic than his own family's, if much larger. Though it was not lacking in food. There were tables and benches carved from stone, baskets of various root vegetables lined the walls. A gentle fire crackled in the corner of the room as the only source of heat. Vinnie inched closer to it, rubbing his arms.

"Your old life is over." The priest's baritone voice reverberated in his chest as he handed Vinnie a robe, the same shapeless amd mud-like attire as his own. The priest tossed his old threadbare clothes in the kitchen fire.

"Sit at the table."

He didn't like that it was a bit further from the fire, but he did as he was told. He looked down at his sleeves and saw a strip of red fabric lining the ends. It was the only difference between his and the priest's clothing. The priest took a pair of long metal tongs and dug from the coals three long yellow tubers, roasted to perfection. He placed them on a stone octagonal plate in front of the boy, next to a mug of warm water.

"This is dougu. We grow these more than any other plants here. Do you know why they are important?"

Vinnie shook his head, sipping at the mug.

"Women were the first creation of the Goddess. But these..." he carefully ripped one open with his claws. The steam burst upward. "They were the first creation of our god, Phobos. All the races of Mars can live off nothing but dougu. Dried, roasted, steamed, pickled, fermented...eaten in all these ways, we need no other nutrients. This is why the dougu are sacred. Tomorrow, you will plant them with us."

The priest sat back.

"Eat. You are a follower of the farmer god now."

---

It was a dull life with the monks, but his belly was always full and he had just as much dirt caked under his nails as back home. If they finished their chores early enough, he and the others novices were mostly left to play whatever games they liked. Vinnie came to learn that not all the high ranking priests were as grim as the one who met him on that first night. Most were rather indulgent of their youngest initiates, having come from similar circumstances as children. He learned their foreign language slowly. Old Mountain, they called it, after the mountains where Phobos first planted his dougu and taught the Mice to farm. They claimed it was the only language Phobos would use when speaking to his people in those old days.

It was not until months later he next saw his father again, in the season of the harvest, when the needy would come to the temple for food collections. For three Martian years he lived this way. Waiting for those few days when he could run to his father and the worn-eyed white Mouse would lift him up, squeezing the life out of him.

"I love you, son. Your mother misses you."

Vinnie took the small meal the monks had packed for him and the other novices to share with his father. When no one was looking, he tried to snatch more of the roasted blue kiiachi roots and and bright yellow dougu tubers from the kitchen. He was always trying to sneak more food to take to their family. But his father would have none of it.

"You don't want to get caught stealing, Vin. You have a real chance for a good life here, if you can make the best of it."

He ruffled the fur on his son's head, now neatly trimmed close to skin.

"Be good, Vin. Do what the monks tell you."

Vinnie was eight years old the last time he heard his father tell him that. As young as he was, even he knew that life for the underclass was uncertain at best, and that he and his family were unwanted by most of society. They were the people that had to work twice as hard to receive half as much. But here at the temple no one care what color his fur was. At that mattered was that he worked the fields with his hands, he came to the cathedral room on time with the other boys when the sun set for the evening worship, and that he remembered to bring his hoe. He wished his brothers would live here with him, where they would never be hungry. Maybe then his dad wouldn't be so sad.

Vinnie did as his father asked, and tried to make the best of where he was at. The monks were kind to everyone they met. He found peace in their example. When he asked the cooks in the kitchen for more food for his family, he was quietly given a small sack of dirty root vegetables to store away until he saw his father again. He was supposed to be coming in two days.

Agrarian simplicity had a roughness to it. A steady stream of work that was never fully completed, even if he and the other boys were released for the day, the monks kept working. No one was without the dark red dirt on their hands and clothes. Once he'd been told his fur ahd shown more soil than the other boys, and it might create the illusion that he worked longer in the fields. It was the only comment he'd been given on the matter. Light and playful. Nothing like the jabs to his ancestry he'd heard in the past.

When battles between the army and the Plutarchians began, the collateral damage was seen most by the temple residents. Refugees flooded the halls, stretching the food supply. They fled here, knowing they would not be followed. What did monks have for Plutarchians? Distant thunder woke him at night. He did not know at the time the Plutarchian invasion, which had been slowly creeping into every corner of Martian life, was now being waged in earnest.

Before that time Vinnie had remembered what it was to be hungry. He never knew what it was to be scared. The injuries people came in with were more than just physical. Entire clans were wiped out, often with only one member left alive. A Plutarchian strategy designed to instill crippling fear in the survivors.

As one of the younger novices, Vinnie was told to bring food and water to refugees. He was too young to understand the symbolism in this request. Food and water was only food and water to him. Had he been older he would have understood that it was the duty of a Phobosian monk to serve the people as Phobos serves his wife. The bulk of the mob crowded in the cathedral room, claiming it as their main sanctuary. There were cots and blankets strewn everywhere, make-shift beds for the homeless masses. On several occasions, a timid-voiced Vinnie asked the priests why their god would let the people be hurt so badly. Wasn't it his job as a caretaker to stop these things? They replied that Phobos was no warrior. He cared for the survivors and that was all. The priests spoke nothing of Deimos, the warrior god, and what his priests were doing. Vinnie wondered if he could find them and ask.

He would never forget what he saw there, sitting alone on a stone bench. A boy, older than him, with rare fur as white as his own. His rose colored eyes were blank, his arms clutching at his sides. Vinnie set his water pail down and ran to him, throwing his arms around his brother.

"Jeth? What are doing here? Is dad okay?"

"Vincent?" Jeth whispered, his disbelieving voice cracking. Vinnie pulled back and saw the moisture welling in the other boy's eyes. "They're gone. Mom, dad, everyone. It's just you and me now."

Years later, Vinnie would be able to say that that was the first time he could remember feeling anger. A powerful shudder ripped through his body. The decaying tether of his psychic brother-bond sprang to life. Vinnie held onto it tightly, determined to never let go of his family again.

"You can be a monk here, with me." Vinnie crushed Jeth to his chest and felt the older boy shakily nod.

They spent everyday together. Jeth helped him with his chores. Vinnie gave him his spare set of red-lined novice robes. He found an old dust covered hoe in a storage closet, joyfully pressing it into his brother's hands. They never left each others sides. Over the next few months, Jeth fell into the rhythms of the temple easily. As they cared for the other refugees and tended to their fields, slowly Jeth too healed and found hope again. Vinnie could happily imagine the rest of their lives here.

Months later the temple was bombed, victim to a bored Plutarchian looking for target practice. Jeth didn't make out. Neither did most of the monks. Vincent was left alone with nothing but his rage.

He refused to be another victim, like all the others who shuffled into the temple. He'd seen too many of them, with their ripped clothes and hopeless faces. He vowed to never be one of them.

Vinnie was still too young to be allowed into any of the telepathic connections that held the temple priesthood together. Although, he'd never been wholly mentally alone before either. Even on the darkest nights where he slept in a warm nest made of soft blankets and and the other boys, he still reached out to his parents and his brothers. In the last year he'd been doing it less and less. Another year and he would had began the studies that would lead him to become a full-fledged monk, and he could join those mental connections that held together the followers of Phobos.

But here, without anyone to hold on to or reach out to, Vinnie began to forget. What was once a part of his nature, caring about others, connecting to others, be they family or a brotherhood, it was all becoming lost.

He began a crusade of survival. He lived on the streets, staying fed anyway he could. He striped himself of the Phobosian robes and stole what garments he preferred. He fought for his meals in the specialized betting pits that favored unusual entries. He rubbed sand in his fur to give it some color, so he would not be mistaken as one castoffs of society. He stared down Rats and Raiders who laughed in his face, groped his body and whispered in his ear "so pretty" and "little white demon". Whatever got him food or a warm bed he did without hesitation. For years Vinnie did whatever it took to stay alive. He would live up to the alien name his father gave him.

---

Slowly, there grew a hardness around him. He could no longer emotionally connect to other Mice in the ways that were so natural to their race. He was alone, and was happy to be so. Every person he had in his life that was important to him was dead. Vinnie survived them all. He was the last victor.

Eventually, on a day when his stomach and head ached from the onus of hunger, he pick-pocketed the wrong Mouse and ended up on the receiving end of a good knock to the head by none other then one of the militia soldiers whose numbers had been seen wandering the streets from the recently built cacern at the edge of town. He was some brown-furred bastard who grabbed him by the scruff, dragged him back to his headquarters and threw him in a barred cell with a hard dirt floor. In the cell across from him sat a sullen shirtless long-hair who glared at the soldier venomously.

The brown Mouse dusted off his shoulders after locking the cell door. "You ain't gonna be easy, kid. Are you?" He leaned against a power console. Reaching into a pocket on his vest, he pull out a short, narrow roll of plant matter. Bark stuffed with kiichi leaves. There was an attention grabbing click, he popped open a lighter, and lit one end of the barkroll. After a long drag, he spoke. "You two can sit here until you develop a better attitude. Deimos only knows, maybe you'll even make friends."

Vinnie would have loved to care. But his cell was warm and dry. These people seemed like the type to pity kids like him. He could spot their type a mile away. They wouldn't likely let him starve. They left alone for hours. The long-hair mostly ignored his attempts at conversation.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Do you not hear me talking to you? When do they bring us food?"

The tan boy kept his smoldering eyes pointed at the floor.

"Hello? Do you have sand in ears? Hey, how long how have you been in here? Do you know when they bring us food!"

Sick of being ignored, Vinnie picked up a small porous rock and tossed it at the other boy's shoulder.

"I'm talking to you!"

Two things happened next. The first was that when the tan boy rapidly turned and stood up, the hair of his hackles along his shoulders, back, and arms rose up on end, making him look much larger than he did a bare moment ago.

The second was that Vinnie, who had disconnected himself from any kind of psychic activity for years, was blasted, full on, with a torrential fusillade of anger. It ripped to shreds all the barriers and mental defenses he'd build around himself, leaving him bare and shaking. There was no pre-existing connection between them, nor were they physically in contact. So, logically, it was impossible that would be any clear words that could be telepathically passed from one boy to the other. And yet Vinnie would swear for the rest of his life that in that moment he heard in his mind a voice in his head that was not his. A voice that sounded like a whispering growl letting loose a command to back off.

If for no other reason than shock, Vinnie obeyed.

The cocky Freedom Fighter returned a few hours later, carrying two rectangle shaped plates of food.

"Heya, boys. Ya'll gonna be nice now?"

Vinnie shifted uncomfortably and shrugged. The long-hair ignore them both.

The Freedom Fighter passed each plate through the bars of the separate cells. Vinnie attacked his food, while the other boy suspiciously picked through it.

"Meat? Is that meat?" he gnawing on a handful. "Where did you get this?"

"We got hunters here, kid. They take care of business."

He couldn't remember the last time he had meat.

Well...actually, he could. But he'd rather not relive the memory. Higher quality food like that usually had higher prices. Typically he could only get it from the Sand Raiders. Meat for meat, they would say. If he wanted to eat he had to pay up front.

"You got a name, kid?"

Vinnie grunted in response.

"You know," a toothy grin spread across the soldier's muzzle. "If you don't tell us your name, we're just going to have to give one. We call the moody one over there Throttle, cause he can give you a good throttlen' with that temper of his." He tilted his head, sizing up Vinnie. "Don't normally see albinos this far north. Thought most of you guys were wiped out. What do you think? We could come up with something about that pasty fur of yours. Some of us around here ain't so original. Might end just calling you Whitey..."

"Vincent!" He stood, squaring his shoulders and staring down the Freedom fighter. "My name is Vincent."

The man gave a single firm nod.

"Nice to meet you Vincent. I'm Stoker.

Vinnie harrumphed in response, resuming his meal. He felt Stoker's eyes on him, narrowing, evaluating his every move.

"You don't got anywhere else to go, do you kid?"

Vinnie stopped eating, glaring at the soldier in front of him.

"I got plenty of places to go."

"Uh-huh. Any of those places actually home? Or do you just do your best to find a new ditch that's not too cold every couple of days?"

"Hey, fuck off old man! You don't know me!"

Stoker chuckled.

"Kid, I've seen more of your type than you ever knew existed. Now calm down. I ain't askin' 'cause I want to hurt you. I'm not trying to dig into your life and see if anyone would notice if you went missing. That shit's not my game."

"Then mind your own business! I don't want your help."

"Hey!" Stoker reached in between the bars and grabbed tightly to his arms. "Calm down. No one here is going to hurt you."

"I told you to fuck off!" Vinnie yanked out of Stoker's hands and backed up against the wall. "I know when I'm being lied too! Whatever you want from me, you'd better be willing to pay! I'm not giving up shit for some gross old pervert. Not without a something in return."

Stoker stood motionless for moment. He angrily scoffed.

"Goddess, kid. That world out there really did a number on you, huh?" He bent down on one knee. His hands held up in a gesture of peace. "No one here wants anything like that from you, kid."

Vinnie had heard that one before.

"Then what's the point of all this? You bring me back here, give me food. You're just trying to get me to not want to resist. I've seen the Raiders do that plenty of times. Why the big act, old man? Just tell me straight what you want."

"What I want? Kid, you're too young to remember what I want. That world was destroyed before you could even walk."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"This," he gestured outward. "...is not the way the world is supposed to be. This is the result of an invasion. Every shitty thing you've had happen to you was because of the Plutarchians." Vinnie would beg to differ on that one. What did this Mouse know about being colorless? "I want only one thing from you, Vincent. I want you to survive. The fish do everything they can stop us from living. Me and my crew are fighting back. We don't put up with that shit and you shouldn't either."

Vinnie hesitated, disbelievingly. "You fight the fish?"

"Damn straight. We're good at it too."

"Why? The army fights for us. That ain't our job."

"The army? Kid, the army don't even know which way is up and which way is down any more. They got pipelines of bad info coming in from all over the place and they can't be trusted. We've taken things into our hands."

"So, what? You want me and whatever the hell that thing is..." he pointed a finger at Throttle, who was still sitting silently. "...to fight those aliens with you?"

Stoker laughed.

"Naw, kid. I don't want you to fight. I told you already. I want you to live. Out there, you don't got much of a chance and you know it. Our people are being killed every day and I won't stand for it. I brought both you two here because you're Mice. Because you look like you haven't eaten in days. Because fighting the fish involves more than a rifle. I've seen a lot of our people die, and I ain't about to see two more when I can do something about it."

The silent long-hair had crept as close as his cell bars would allow him.

"I don't expect much of that to make sense to you. But just so you know, my goal here is the survival of our species. I ain't looking for nothing else from you."

Vinnie did not remember rain. He'd never seen the effect of hot and cold and wet on stone surfaces. The cracks in the walls and the leaks that followed them. He did not remember the changes that were forced when walls were fractured. That Throttle boy broke into him. It was short and brutal, and he hadn't lingered. But Vinnie had lived for too long without any of the family bonds of his youth, and could no longer recognize the intangible texture of another Mouse's mind.

Years later, he would look back at that day and understand exactly what Stoker had done, and how it affected him so easily. Vinnie was already lost, both from his unstable life on the streets and the events of that day. His grip on what he knew to be reality had shifted to a blurry jumble of contradictions. A Mouse, who had grabbed him and thrown him in a cage, stood before him promising an environment of amity. Never mind that Stoker was intentionally projecting a generalized sensation of safety at the two boys.

But on that day, Vinnie had no idea. He knew only that he was afraid to trust this Mouse, even though he was relatively certain that there was no danger here.

Defensively, Vinnie continued to speak with his accustomed indifference. "What are you going to do with us then? Keep us in a cage until you fix the world?"

"Naw. You two are gonna hang with us for a while. You'll like it. The food ain't that great but at least it's consistent. They're ain't no missed meals around here for boys like you. I think that's more than the two of you have gotten in a long time. And you.." He turned sharply, pointing a finger at the long-hair. "...are not gonna get your way by bullying everyone around you like you did on the streets. We treat each other with respect here. You're gonna get as much as you give."

The other boy narrowed his eyes, turning away sullenly.

Stoker smugly looked back at Vinnie. "He'll come around. So what you say, kid? Life will be a whole lot easier for you here with us."

An urge to run overtook him. To flee this more than likely lying mouse and let him do with that long-hair whatever he wanted.

But another part of him, the part that he had long buried, the part that the long-hair had shaken awake, the part that this Stoker was subtly prying open with his own psychic abilities...that part of him wanted so badly to believe.

Vinnie nodded shakily.

As Stoker showed Vinnie around the great cave, new people slapping him on the back and inviting him into their home with friendship, Vinnie would remember this day as the first time in years that he truly felt safe.

---

He got used to life among out with soldiers. They spoke straight and left nothing to guessing. It was comforting in it's own way. These people hadn't earned much of his trust yet, but Stoker was on point when he claimed that Vinnie didn't have anywhere else to be.

He hadn't been around so many other Mice at one time since he was at the temple. He'd forgotten how cohesively his people could work together. The quiet long-hair, Throttle, fell into place here too, spending most of his time watching the technicians piece together a working computer system for their base.

Vinnie preferred the cooks. They let him eat as much as he wanted, so long as he helped with the food preparation whenever the hunters returned. There were many here who complained that they lived an economical and wholly unembellished life. They said they longed for the days before the Plutarchians when life was easier. Vinnie disagreed. Sometimes loudly. The Phobosian order didn't even use electricity, and his family home was little more than a barely furnished shelter dug into the ground. This place had allowed him more luxury than he had yet know in his young life.

Stoker would check in on him every couple of days. He had a habit of strutting into a room as if there wasn't a thing in the universe that could faze him. As he walked confidently into the base's kitchen, he grinned at a couple of women butchering a fresh kill.

"Hey, ladies! How did I manage to get two of the beautiful women on Mars cooking up our dinner?" He held his hands up reverently, as if in prayer. "Proof! That's what this is. The Goddess blesses our work with your divine presence."

"Stoker, you flirt," replied a female, whose fur was a sandy-copper brindle. "That kind of sweet talk isn't going to get you the best cuts of meat, or dinner any earlier. You're in the same rotation as everyone else."

Stoker pointed to Vinnie. "You let him take extra snacks."

The female's face became stern now, fed up with this childish joke. "He is a half-starved child." She turned back to her work.

He shrugged. "Can't blame a guy for trying." Stoker slapped a firm hand on Vinnie's back, who was still silently fuming at being called a child.

"Women, right? Hardly anything more perfect out there."

Vinnie continued scraping the dirt of the black potato-like vegetables with a worn rag. As these last few weeks were the first time in years he'd even been around women, aside from his mother, he wasn't quite sure how to respond to any comments about them.

Stoker gave him a friendly nudge with his elbow. "You come from a big family, right? You got any sisters?"

"...no," Vinnie replied, "Only had my brothers, my dad, and my mom. I don't know anything about girls."

"They all got achromia?"

Vinnie's hands froze. In his experience, people only brought up that topic when they were looking from something to exploit.

"What do you care? They're all dead. Without them around you got six less colorless Mice stinking up the neighborhood."

"Calm down, kid. I didn't mean it like that. Look, if you're going have a hissy fit about it, just forget I said anything."

"Then why'd you ask?"

Stoker held up his hands in surrender.

"It wasn't like how you think. We Freedom Fighters don't give a shit about any of that nonsense." He crossed his arms. "Around here what matters is how you treat people. You act with respect. You leave a lasting impression with others that has benefit to the group. You'll find that for us your melanin count is about as important as important as your favorite color. It's superficial, and probably kinda stupid anyways."

Vinnie hesitated, unused to such validation. Historically, anytime someone gave him any indication that he was wasn't broken from birth, it was because they wanted something from him. But Stoker have already made it clear that wasn't how he did things.

"Look, I don't pretend to know everything you've lived through out there on your own," Stoker continued. "...but I know it wasn't pretty. Seems to me that you haven't had a Mouse around to show you how a real man is supposed to act in a long time."

"And you can do that?" came the flippant response. It was Vinnie's habit to retreat into a defensive or aggressive tone when at a loss for how to act.

"I ain't your dad, kid. But when you're old enough, you got a place with us as long as you like."

"When...I'm old enough?"

"This here ain't no place for someone as young as you. You're better off with a family."

Vinnie felt the ground were quaking beneath him. The rag, smudged with copper dirt, wadded between his fingers. He felt his stomach flip with fear, his chest burn with rage.

"Weren't you listening?" Vinnie's accusatory tone twisted into a wrangled angry wreck of a sentence. "My family's been dead for years. You said yourself I got nowhere else to go. You said I could stay here!"

The air around them had firmness to it. Stiff, but pliable, as if he were stuffed into a box of pillows. Vinnie wanted to be angry with Stoker. He felt he had every right to be. But there was an inescapable current here, flowing with ease and trust.

"Naw, kid." Stoker's words were gentle. "It's just better that you that you're somewhere where you don't gotta deal with the things we do. Wouldn't you rather be with a family? Don't you want to know what it's like have a mom again? Or a big sister? We can find you a family, kid. You and that Throttler boy."

His stomach twisted. Vinnie didn't want to admit any fear he might have of the other boy, but his sense of survival won out.

"That freak? Naw-uh. No way I'm going anywhere with him."

"He ain't nothin' bad, really. He's more like you than you think. Just a kid livin' on the streets tryin' to survive. Only he got into bullying others instead of submitting, like you did. Honestly, he ain't that bad. Just don't let him scare you."

Vinnie withdrew into himself, hunching his shoulders and sulking.

"Where you want to take us?"

"There's some lands west of here. It part of our territory. It's protected. A few clans live there, trying to make the best of things. They take in kids like you from time to time. Got a real nice home lined up for you. You'd have a brother, a sister, a mom."

Vinnie flashed back to fond memories of his dad. How safe he would feel in his arms. No one could ever replace him.

"I don't want a new dad, so you ain't gonna force one on me."

Stoker eyes grew sad.

"No dads there, kid. Just a small clan lookin' for some new members."

"Why would they even want to take in kids like us? What's in it for them?"

Stoker was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, it was a patient explanation, as if he were speaking to a foreigner.

"That's the way we Mice do things. Or...the way we're supposed to do things. Not everyone got to live in the best parts of society. But how it ought to be is this: a clan isn't just people who are related by blood or fur color, kid. It's the the people you invite in. The people you connect to. All the different mind-streams you make with the people you love the most. That's a clan."

"So what do they even want with us then? They don't even know us."

"I asked if they would and the old mama said yes. Her daughter's about to have a pup of her own and the only man they got around is a boy about your age. That's a clan out of balance, if you ask me."

Why, said a tiny voice in the back of Vinnie's mind, would they want me? If they were willing to give him a place to sleep and food to eat, he wasn't going to say no, but it would only last so long. Eventually they would figure out he was useless to them. What did he know about babies? He knew how to hide in a crowd, and to avoid a target's eyeline just long enough to snatch a meal. He knew how to keep his elbows tucked in and to hit swiftly hit an opponent's weak spots before darting away from a missed kick. He knew how to look out for himself. This bizarre place with all it's people working in unity, every task completed with precision...they tollorated him for long enough it seemed. Now they were shoving him off to someone else. Well, fine. He didn't care. He'd take whatever they gave him and wouldn't look back. Vinnie didn't own these people anything.

"...okay. I guess I could see what they're like."

Stoker slapped him on the back.

"Attaboy. We'll make a civilized Mouse out of you yet."

---

"Are these them?"

She was a round, middle-aged woman, with a stern smile and warm eyes.

"They are entirely too thin. Especially this white one." She poked him in the ribs and he squeaked. "You should have brought them to me sooner. Come on inside, boys. You must be starving. You're staying too, Stoker. I'll not take no for an answer. Shoes off at the door."

She pushed the boys inside her gated cave, while Stoker uttered a cocky "Yes ma'am." under his breath.

The two boys were made to sit at an old metallic table. Bowls of bland mashed up root vegetables were placed in front of them. Vinnie ate without reservation, but the long-hair, as always, stared at his food suspiciously before cautiously venturing a bite.

"My son is out with the hunters now." the old mama offered cheerfully. "You'll see him later tonight. But my daughter is here."

A heavily pregnant slip of a girl entered the room, carrying a pitcher of water. Vinnie was truly shocked at how young she looked. She couldn't have been more than a few years older than them.

"Hey," he asked without restraint. "How come you don't got a pack of boys around to take care of that." Vinnie gestured at her abdomen. "I thought all girls had all that stuff taken care of for them. What do you need us around for?"

"Kid," Stoker warned. "It ain't polite to be pointing things out like that.

"No, it's all right." She placed the pitcher down on the table, and turned towards Vinnie. Her eyes proclaimed her endurance. Vinnie shrank back a bit in response. This was the kind of woman he had heard about all his life, but hardly ever seen. She was the image of cool and calm. Fearless and in charge. "It's nice to meet you, by the way. My name is Trace." She pulled out a chair opposite to Vinnie and sat. "I don't have any 'boys', as you put it, because real life doesn't work out so smoothly. Sometimes these days, people just die. Besides, I'm studying to be a doctor. I don't have time to take care of men."

"Oh Trace," her mother chided. "There's no need to be rude!"

Trace looked back at her mother.

"How could I equate these children with men?" She turned back to him. "I can't. Not until you prove yourself worthy."

Vinnie sank into his chair, unsure why he felt so scolded. Trace tilted her head.

"Little boy," she began slowly. "I am not saying there's anything wrong with you. I am saying that you are only a boy and you should not be held to the same standards as men." Her slender fingers wrapped around the pitcher, lifting it and pouring water into three iron cups for their guests. Vinnie grabbed his, gulping it greedily even after he noted to sharp taste of salt, while Throttle did not so much as look at his. He kept his eyes focused on the onyx-back girl. "It has been explained to me that you two might not be aware of how civilized Mice live. Do you know what this is?" She gestured to their cups.

Vinnie sat his cup down, gasping. He eyed the pitcher, hoping for more.

"It's an old custom from the lowlands. My fathers were from there, so we keep their customs alive. No salt was added to your food. It was only in the water." She reached out across the table and took hold of Vinnie's hand with her left. Her right hand she left open invitingly, watching Throttle with a gaze powerful enough to burst a star. Vinnie took note of how Throttle flinched when he saw her hand coming towards him on the table. "We do this when welcoming family home, or inviting new family in." Throttle's pensive, ridged face bore more emotions than he likely meant to show. Vinnie saw the rippling muscles of his jaw and neck clench and unclench rapidly. Slowly, so slowly, Throttle rested a worn and visibly scarred hand on Trace's fingers. "It is important that you two understand that we do not expect you two to be dutiful young men right off the bat. We understand there are old wounds here in need of healing. And until then, we will give you a safe home. We will protect you. Hopefully, one day," She turned back to Vinnie. "...you will be able to protect us."

Vinnie pretended not to see the tears welling up in the other boy's eyes.

They finished their meal with more warmth than it began. Even Throttle sipped at his salt water until it was gone. The old woman, (who never gave her name that night, insisting the boys simply call her 'mama') pestered Stoker until he agreed to spend the night, before making the long trip home in the morning. That evening, her son returned with a haunch of reptile thrown over his shoulder. After depositing it in the kitchen, he and Stoker shook hands like old friends.

"Come on," the muscled boy encouraged, a bright smile coloring his face. "I'll show you where you'll be sleeping."

Vinnie and Throttle followed, unaware of what future was to meet them.

---

Years later, Vinnie would find himself back at that gated cave entrance with his Liiashlau and a human woman in tow.

"It'll be safe for you here, Charley-girl." Throttle spoke in that softy commanding way of his. "And it'll be a lot more comfortable than back at our base."

Modo's mother placed a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"I'll take good care of her, boys. Don't you worry."

There was a knowing glint to her words. No doubt it was something Modo couldn't help but pass to his mother. As much as she cared for him and Throttle, they never had the same maternal link that a mother had with a child she carried in her womb.

Vinnie glanced back at him. Modo had a guilty expression. He threw out a burst of emotion that roughly translated to She's my mom. I couldn't hide anything from her if I wanted to. Vinnie rolled his eyes.

He shot a quick glance at Charley. Throttle once said he'd noticed that Charley was rarely ever afraid. She'd lived for too long on her own. She'd learned to push through and get things done. But there was something unstable radiating off her, similar to the sensation of someone who was shaking with shock. Only Charley wasn't shaking. He couldn't think of a single time when he seen her do anything like that. She was not a woman to be thrown off track by unpredictable events. She was a solid steel wall. Charley rode the tide, she stuck it out until the end and always came out on top. But at this moment, she did not seem to be that person. He could tell that the wall's integrity was beginning to crack. At this realization, he felt colossal surge of purpose. A powerful need to hunt down those monsters who chained her up and make them pay.

The part of his heart that he'd given entirely to the warrior god Deimos demanded that he take action so no one could ever threaten her sense of safety her again.

He sent out a mental flash of urgency, letting his bros know he needed to get going before his temper got the best of him. Modo's mother caught it too and she gave him stern cautionary look, urging him to be careful.

Charley, completely unaware of the communication around her, gave a small grateful smile to him and his brothers.

"Thanks guys. How long do you think it'll be before I can get back to Earth?"

"That's what we got to find out, Charley-girl. We don't know yet." Throttle responded. "But we promise we'll make sure you get back. You can count on us."

She smiled, but it appeared fake.

Jamming his helmet over his head, Vinnie turned to his bike. He had to get out of here.

He rode in the same direction as his bros until they couldn't see the cave anymore. Then, without warning, Vinnie veered off towards the low mountainous terrain where no one lived.

"Vincent!" Throttle called over the radio in his helmet. "What are you doing?"

"I just need some space right now, alright? I'll be back later tonight."

He heard Throttle sigh.

"Fine. Just be careful. Come back in one piece."

Vinnie grunted in reply

After hours of riding, he came to the place where the Sand Raiders who took Charley were last seen. It was a small circular patch of even ground, surrounded by rocky cliffs on all sides. There was nothing here, save for a few tracks in the sand, now ruined by the constant breeze. He bent down, trying to find something useful. After a few minutes squinting his eyes and scratching around in the dirt, he found nothing. They were long gone.

He kicked at the sand. A puff of dust plumed into the air. Vinnie cursed in the slippery vernacular of Old Mountain.

Maybe he should have counted himself lucky for never having been sold into slavery by them. He was too young to be worth much, and it was widely known that Mice did not often value the colorless. He was hardly worth the effort needed to keep him there, and so much easier to slip out after they'd had had their fill and gone to sleep.

Vinnie spotted a small carving etched into the side of a boulder. It was the Goddess, her arms outstretched invitingly and her eyes half lidded, as if examining any who might come before her. This icon was different than the images he'd grown up with. Her snout was longer and sharper, and her ears her bent backwards with brutal pointed tips, rather than the gentle round curve of a Mouse ear. Raiders depicted the Goddess as one of them. Even her expression seemed more savage.

They always left one of these alters behind. Maybe they had some misguided idea that if they were consistent in their piety, then their cruelty could be forgiven. He didn't know what to think about that, really. Only the truly damned could come up that kind of ridiculous justification. He thought about destroying the image, but dismissed the idea. Even a bastardized carving of the Goddess deserved some respect.

He bent his head, offering a quick prayer, and made his way back to his bike. Vinnie knew it had been getting a bit antsy, out here alone and exposed. He could only blame himself for that, as he was the one who chose its defensive-based strategy programming. Well...Throttle had suggested it, since Vinnie tended to be so lacking in strategy even on a good day, and he agreed. He knew he was reckless, but there was no sense in being completely suicidal. So, his bike complimented his lack of forethought.

Just as he assumed, his red sand-skimmer was twitching its lights back and forth, trying to get his attention. Vinnie looked up into the distance at a cloud of dust trailing behind a gray rough-rider, bouncing over the rocky path. He heaved a heavy sigh, knowing what would come next. When the other bike stopped a few feet in front of him, its owner took out a spare jacket from a side compartment and tossed it at him.

"You forget you're not on earth? I ain't having the old mama kick up a dust storm at me when you get sick, just 'cause your stubborn to ask for help. What are you doing out here all alone, kid?"

Vinnie didn't want to admit he'd been cold since he'd returned to Mars. He'd gotten so used to nothing but jeans and his bandoleers while living in Earth's warmer climate, he'd forgotten to wear anything else. He tossed the coat on, but ignored the comment, instead seeking about a jibe of his own.

"I can't believe you still have that old thing." Vinnie kicked the rough-rider's front tire. "They even make parts for these models anymore?"

"Hey, you leave my baby alone. She's sensitive." Stoker took off his helmet and glared at him. "Why'd your bros let you go out here by yourself?"

"'Cause they know when to back off. I'm not in the mood to talk, Stoke. How did you even find me?"

A casual smirk swaggered its way onto Stoker's lips. Vinnie resisted the urge to greet it with his fist.

"How do think? Throttle radioed to let us know you wouldn't be returning with him because we freedom fighters look out for each other. And I know how you think, kid. Of course you'd go back the place where you found her. I read those reports. I knew where this was. It wasn't that hard."

"Yeah, well, nice of you to show up at all, I guess. Where were you before? Did you know that Carbine locked us up?"

"Hey," he held up his hands in surrender. "I can't be everywhere at once. Me and some others guys were on a mission. Scrambling some stench-carrier messages and taking the good info for ourselves. We got it done..."

"Yeah, yeah. Because 'that's what men do'. I heard it a thousand times from you, Stoke."

"Don't make it any less true." Stoker stepped off his bike. "What did you think you would find out here anyways?"

"I...I don't know. But it was better than doing nothing!"

"And if you had found anyone? Out here, without any backup? What made you think that was a good idea?"

"Hey!" Vinnie pointed a sharp finger at Stoker. "If I wanted to be criticized, I would have brought Throttle." He looked away, kicking at the dirt. "You weren't there. You didn't see her. She had chains on, Stoke. Charley was running away from them as fast as she could and I didn't even know she was here!" Vinnie clenched his fists. His arms shook with rage. "How many other Mice know what kind of sick shit the Raiders are into. And that...that fucking fish just gave her to them like she was nothing!"

Vinnie looked up. Stoker's face was contorted into something that vaguely resembled patience.

"I am never letting those bastards anywhere near Charley. I don't care what it costs me."

Stoker let out a small huff. "And you kept tryin' to tell me that I didn't see anything."

Vinnie's anger was thrown off track. "...what?"

"You know. Back on Earth?" He gestured roughly at the sky. "I saw you had a thing for her. You and your bro."

Vinnie scowled. "It wasn't like that. That was a long time ago and nothing was going on then. I mean...I always thought Charley was hot, but we were never going to go back on our word. Besides, Carbine threw us in jail. Why would she do that if she still wanted us? That kind of action means something."

Stoker crossed his arms sternly. "That's not what happened and you know it."

Vinnie waved a dismissive gesture. "Whatever, man. It's close enough. Politics are not really my thing, and I'm not interested in finding out. But you don't pull shit like that and expected everything to go back to normal afterwards."

Stoker heaved a heavy breath. "Okay. Fine. Far be it for me to get involved with your sex life. Look," he scratched the back of his head. "All I'm saying is that if you want to get something done, why go about it on your own? Those Raiders ain't never been any good to anyone, and getting in on all that by yourself is just asking for trouble."

"So you came here to help me?"

"By the looks of it, we ain't gonna get far. They're long gone and we got no trail to follow. We're not gonna find them today."

Vinnie growled in defeat. "So what are we supposed to do? Just let them get away with this shit?"

"Hey, you're the monk. Maybe we could pray for a sign."

"I was never a monk, Stoker."

The old soldier shrugged. "Initiate, then. Or novice...or apprentice. Whatever you called it."

Vinnie angrily huffed, glaring at his old mentor.

"It's just...it's not right. How they treat people. And Charley...she was here. She was right here with these monsters and I had no idea. Fuck, man! Even Throttle had no idea. He's supposed to be the master telepath, but he was so distracted by Carbine and he couldn't feel anything! I can't stop thinking about all the things they could have done to her, Stoke."

"Hey kid, none of that happened. She got out alright."

"But it could have. I just can't let it go! She..." He glanced back at the disfigured engraving of the Goddess, narrowing his eyes, hating the hands that carved it. "She's important. Not just for all the reasons that women are always important, but to me personally."

"Kid..." Stoker's soft eyes were more irritating than helpful.

"I know I'm wanting the impossible with that, and I accept that. But...I just want to know she's safe. I can let go of everything else if I can just have that."

"You know well and good there's really one way to guarantee that, And it ain't exactly human custom."

"...yeah. I know."

"You gotta keep the promises you've already made. That's your word, kid. It's not something you can just throw around like it means nothing."

"I know! You don't gotta tell me all this again, Stoke." Vinnie leaned against the saddle of his bike, crossing his arms and ankles. "I just don't know what to do! We came back to Mars because we thought all that Earth stuff was over. But the Plutarchians are still there and we've made promises to Charley too. We have to go back."

"So now you're stuck in the middle of two women, the one you really want and the one who has already claimed you."

"...I never thought I'd regret too many women in my life."

"Aw kid," Stoker dismissively waved. "Life's about balance, not who has the most. Seems to me that you lost some of that."

"Thanks, Stoke," he deadpanned. "Real helpful."

"So..." Stoker moved next to Vinnie, leaning against the red sand-skimmer. "What you gonna do?"

"What can I do?" He tossed his hands in the air. "We're gonna apologize to the general for leaving things the way they are and we're going back to Earth. We have to stop the Plutarchians there now, before they're allowed to spread. Earth can't be like what happened on Mars. Earth can still be saved."

"And Charley?"

"She doesn't know any of this yet and it's better to keep it that way."

Stoker nodded.

"It's just..." Vinnie squeezed his eyes shut. "This all sucks! So hard!"

"Yeah, kid. That it does." Stoker nudged him with his elbow. "What you say we head on back and get some dinner?"

Vinnie let out a defeated sigh. "Yeah. Okay." He slid his helmet over his head. "That is if your bike can make it back without breaking down."

"Hey, what I tell you about talking shit about my bike?"

Vinnie scoffed, climbing over his sand-skimmer and kicking on the engine.

---

They rode back to the base, and after hooking his bike up to the solar power charger, he and Stoker, side by side, made their way to the mess hall for a meal.

There was an odd tingling in the back of his mind. He didn't pay much attention to it as he and Stoker took their time, meandering through the tunnels. When they arrived, they both took their share of the roasted root vegetables available, and the odd sensation grew.

They sat down together, but Stoker, observant as ever, tilted his head to the side and watched him with prying eyes.

"Everything alright there, kid?"

Vinnie shrugged, biting into the mushy black root. "Not sure. I think something's going on with one of my bros."

Stoker lifted an eyebrow.

"I don't know what." Vinnie clarified. "But whatever it is, it's got him real upset."

"Which one is it?"

"I ain't looking that deep. It's just...one of 'em."

"Hm, might be something needs tending to."

Vinnie stood and rolled his eyes, feeling like a chastised child. He already knew that, and it didn't help to have Stoker point out the obvious. He let out an annoyed huff, munching on the black root vegetable as he walked away.

"You not going to put away your dishes?" Stoker called after him.

"Since you're all about commenting on everything I do today, you can clean up my mess," Vinnie called over his shoulder.

Vinnie heard a disgruntled "Punk!" being called after him as he swallowed the last bite and briskly trode down the corridor.

Something was up. Something important. Vinnie dodged into an empty supply closet and locked the door. He saw a small stool shoved in the corner. Pulling it out, he sat on it and closed his eyes.

Modo's presence was feeling rather recessive in his mind, which left him only Throttle. He was spouting out all kinds emotions every which-way, which, now that he was concentrating on it, left Vinnie feeling a bit disorientated. Modo was attempting to reach out to Throttle, giving him the equivalent of a friendly hand on the shoulder. Throttle didn't do much more than ignore it. It seemed that he was distracted by other things.

Vinnie clenched his fists, and stood. He kicked a stone wall in frustration. We're on your side, bro! Don't lock us out. Throttle felt that remorse, and sent back a bit of guilt.

Barracks, Throttle sent. Vinnie and Modo were given an image of their small shared room with the three of them standing in the middle. Attached to that image was the implication that this scene had not yet happened. An event to be created by their own actions. Modo produced agreement. Vinnie hated waiting.

He slipped out of the closet, angrily forcing his way through the telepathic camaraderie of the base. Other Mice cleared out of his way.

It was a small, private room. Their many battles had earned them enough prestige to get them a bit spaced reserved to themselves. Modo was already there, crossing his arms, leaning against the wall. He looked up when Vinnie walked in, huffing disappointingly.

"You clear on any of this?"

"Naw, man. I got nothing." Vinnie sat on an oval bed. "You?"

Modo shrugged. "He said to come here. And before that, I don't really know. He didn't sound good."

"Yeah. I read that loud and clear."

The door was thrown open. An angry Throttle, verging on tears, pounded his way forward. His hackles stood on end, puffing up the fur on his neck and arms. For one brief moment Vinnie was reminded of that terrifying youth he met in the cells years before. Throttle stopped in front of a small desk in the corner, yanking open a drawer and digging through its contents. It was only then that Vinnie saw the dripping blood from Throttle's left knuckles.

"Don't bother asking why we've all been thrown to the curb, but it seems that our general had no more use for us." He pulled out the bandage strips and began wrapping his hand.

Vinnie took a tentative step forward. "Throttle...what's going on?"

Throttle ignored him, instead focusing on Modo. "I really don't need you to say shit to me right now. I know what this means. So you if you could keep your opinions to yourself right now, that'd be real great."

Modo's bafflement stung at Vinnie's consciousness.

"...what? I don't what you mean, bro..."

"Of course you don't!" Throttle limply sat on a bed. "And I'd almost rather keep it that way." Burying his head in his hands, Throttle confessed the truth of the situation. "She doesn't want us."

Modo offered a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Who doesn't want us, Throttle?"

"Carbine. She said everything is just too political for her right now. We're not even living on Mars and that it makes us too much of a liability for her status."

"What status? Around here. Us freedom fighters were never much to stand on formality."

"Her status as Matriarch."

All three of them were silent for a moment, Vinnie and Modo not sure what to do with this information.

Their people had been without a leader, or much of anything resembling a formalized government for so many years. They truly were not up to date on the goings on of their society if this had been happening without their knowing.

"She told you this?" Modo asked in shock. "She told you they're bringing all that back?"

"There's been all these council meetings," Throttle grunted. "...with the military and anyone else who's got power anywhere."

"What council? Since when do we have councils?"

"I don't know! It's whoever is in charge of this stuff." Throttle sniffed angrily. "Apparently, everyone has decided that with us winning this war, a show of strength needs to be made. So they're reforming the government. And Carbine is being put in the top position."

"Shit, man." Vinnie gasped. "I don't know if I'd be any good at that kind of life. But I'd make a good looking trophy husband."

"Weren't you listening! She says we're not good enough. She says she needs politicians, not soldiers, because we don't know what we're doing." Throttle angrily threw the bloody gauze to the floor. It landed with a hard splat. "As if we didn't wait years, some of that in Plutarchian captivity for her to be ready. And now she's decided that we're not good enough!"

The relief was clearly written all over Modo's face. His eyes lit up as he let out a shuddering exhale. Warning bells went off in Vinnie's head. On instinct he stepped between Throttle and Modo.

"Hey, guys...come on..."

Throttle had stood, his arms held tightened muscles.

"That's it? That's how you're going to respond?" Throttle focused on Modo.

"Throttle...come on, man. I didn't even say nothing..."

"You didn't have to! We had a plan. We were going to have a life together. Now she throws us aside and all you can think of is when you get to fuck the Human!"

"It ain't like that, man!"

"I know exactly what's it like! We did what you wanted, Modo. We gave in and became a liiash union. So don't you dare accuse me of not knowing what is going on in there." Throttle leaned over Vinnie and roughly thumped Modo on the chest.

Vinnie pressed on Throttle's shoulders, pushing him backwards a few steps.

"Throttle, mouse, calm down." Vinnie leaned into his bros ear as he spoke.

Throttle raised a fist, tipped with an accusatory finger jutting out in Modo's direction.

"I know you, Modo. I will know you until the day I die."

Vinnie was rapidly becoming uncomfortable.

"If you know me so well," Modo's remaining eye narrowed. "...then you know how easy it is for me to let go of Carbine. She never even liked me and Vinnie anyways. Charley is..."

Throttle broke free of Vinnie's hands with a rapid yank. He did nothing less than throw his full weight into the sudden punch. Modo collapsed to one knee under the weight of the blow.

"You don't know jackshit about her!" Throttle snarled, his tail lashing back and forth behind him.

Vinnie wasn't certain which 'her' Throttle was referring to. Apparently, even through the milky haze of his rage, which had expanded to encompass the whole room, sharply pulling at Vinnie and Modo both, Throttle was still aware enough to notice Vinnie's confusion.

"Both!" Long-hair tussled over burning eyes. Throttle's vicious words echoed off the stone walls.

Modo pulled himself up from the ground, towering above Throttle. "I know Charley. And I know you got one-up on me about that..."

Vinnie saw Throttle narrow his eyes, even in the poor lighting of their cave.

"...but that don't mean I don't know her. She's what's best for us. She always has been. If you can't see that, then you got no business being in charge here."

It had always been a peculiar sensation, to feel a complete loss of control from another's perspective. Up until this point Vinnie had been wading through the abrasive dinge of Throttle's frustration, and it was less than pleasant. He'd done his best to push past that, but none of them could ignore the moment when Throttle's fist connected with Modo for a second time and all three of them were assaulted with their leader's relief.

Vinnie leaped forward, attempting a hold on Throttle's shoulders again, but his bro shoved him off, knocking him to the ground.

"You don't get to make that decision for all of us!" Throttle's booming voice echoed off the stone walls. As Vinnie pushed himself off the ground, he saw Throttle's closed fist held high in the air, ready for another attack. He reacted on instinct, leaping upward and wrapping his arms around Throttle's raised bicep, Vinnie put the full force of his weight behind his movements.

"Bro!" Vinnie's grip was slipping as Throttle attempted to shake him off. "This ain't cool, man!"

Throttle continued to fight back, but Vinnie managed to hook his ankle around Throttle's, bringing him to the ground. Throttle grunted as his back roughly contacted with the floor.

"This ain't how we solve this!"

Modo pushed himself up on his elbows. "Since when do you care about calming things down?"

"With you two idiots, what else am I supposed to do?" Vinnie took a deep breath. "Can we just take a breather? We can figure out what to do next, but not while we see each other as the enemy."

Throttle's knuckles oozed with fresh blood, his reopened wounds, dripping to the floor. He pounded his fist on stone beneath him and sprang to his feet. Modo by contrast rose slowly, pulling his weight up with one of the bed posts. When they were all standing, Vinnie looked back and forth between his Liiashlau.

"We all on the same side, right?" he asked.

Throttle's head snapped up. He moved forward, pushing Vinnie out of the way with a flat hand on his chest. Throttle stepped up to Modo. His face was mere inches from his brother's. Vinnie watched Throttle's chest rise and fall, angrily huffing out deep breaths of air. Modo would not look Throttle in the eyes, likely to not come across as challenging him again.

A moment later Throttle moved passed Modo, leaving the room without a word, slamming the door behind him.

"Well," Modo breathed, collapsing on one of the beds. "That could have gone better."

"Yeah, but it also could have gone worse. You're lucky he wasn't wearing his nuk-knucks." Vinnie sat on the bed beside him. "You okay?"

"M'fine. Ain't nothing I can't take. Besides, Throttle wasn't exactly wrong. It wasn't right for me to be happy about that. I just...it was a gut reaction, you know?"

Vinnie nodded. "You know what this means, right?"

"Yeah...I don't want to go there yet. We should give Throttle some time, then talk about this together."

"We all need some time to process." Vinnie looked down at his shoes. "You think...Charley, I mean. You think she'll even want us?"

"I don't know, man. We just got to be careful with that. If we even bring it up, it'll be way outside her comfort zone." Modo hung his head in his hands. "Who even knows. Maybe Throttle's right. Maybe we don't even have a right asking her that."

Vinnie's abdomen seized in tension, and he shuffled his feet. Modo was right. Too right for him to acknowledge out loud. To hear that truth come from his brother was just too painful.

With a lurch of displaced adrenaline, his sprang to his feet, aching to run.

"I gotta go. I'll meet up with you later."

Modo shot him a sad smile.

"Yeah, go on. I know you're feeling that need to move. See you later bro." Invitingly, Modo stretched out his hand. Vinnie grasped it at the wrist and gave a rough shake.

He left, hoping back on his bike and riding over the sand and cliffs at top speed for hours. He raced against his own records, pushing himself and his bike to the limit, until nearing exhaustion. Eventually his bike stopped, outwardly refusing to move one more inch until it soaked up a bit of sunlight. Vinnie himself lay outstretched in the sand, eyes closed to the glaring sun, trying to think of anything but Charley.

---

When Vinnie was a teenager, he would often run away from home.

There was nothing wrong with the family Stoker had placed him with, and it wasn't because he had no intention of coming back. His reasoning was simple. Most days he was fine, but there were moments when the rage would slowly creep back into his life. He found himself picking fights with that quite long-hair, who, no matter what anyone else said, was still unnerving to be around. He avoided the big one, however. Vinnie hadn't survived this long without knowing in two seconds flat who could and could not crush him in a fight. But the rest of the family...they at least didn't deserve his disfunction.

He couldn't see any way of letting out his anger at the past without hurting these people. Vinnie would disappear for days on end, and while he always came home eventually, it was hardly ever without the telltale dirt covered pelt, bloody lips, and bruises that were so clearly seen through his pallid fur.

In the beginning, his new clan would always go out and look for him. Never finding him, of course. He knew how to hide. Eventually, after months of this, there was a sort of tepid acceptance to these disappearances. Beaten and covered in mud, he would return home. The old mama, stern-faced and disapproving, would scold him. Never raising her voice, she spoke calmly in a tone that reminded him much of the old monks. She told him, repeatedly, to take better care of himself. He wasn't out on the streets anymore, and didn't have to live this way. Even though she rarely appeared happy to see him when he returned in such a disheveled state, her mental presence was a gentle assault on his shaken nerves, calming him enough that sleep would come just a little bit easier that night. She held her family together through a firm grip of experience and determination. Vinnie knew, through, there was something about him that she either couldn't or wouldn't fully latch onto. Maybe he was too broken, no longer the same as other mice, and could no longer be capable of sharing in all the things every other normal family had.

They asked him where he went and why he always came back hurt. Vinnie refused to answer. He knew this was his home now. It was safe, and these people cared about his well being. But how much they cared didn't always matter, because they didn't understand.

Sometimes, he wouldn't even go anywhere. He would walk just far enough away from their home so that he could not be easily found, and just sit, watching the horizon for any signs of danger. He couldn't sleep whenever he left. Or, maybe it was that he left because he couldn't sleep. Vinnie was never quite sure where that one started.

After he cleaned up, it was common to have a fussing infant pressed into his arms. Trace's children, still too young to be given names, were everyone's responsibility. With him leaving so often, he was also shirking his duty to this family. The truth was every time he held one of the twins, so soft and vulnerable, the youngest of this clan...he was terrified.

How could he be what they needed? He was nothing. He was never even a real monk. Just an ugly colorless mouse with no real skills. When his brothers were the age he was now, they would go with their father into fields, harvesting three times their weight in crops. It was enough to make a meager wage, and they supplemented that with the fungus they foraged from nearby caves. Some of this they would sell. Most they brought home for the family to eat. They worked all day to keep the family fed.

But he had never done this. He couldn't focus enough to do just one task to completion. When he was often asked by Trace or the old mama to gather a few vegetables from the small garden planted just outside their cave, he would try, oh by the gods he would try, to be useful and do as he was asked. Nearly every time, however, Vinnie would be distracted by everything from a flying insect, to a change in the weather. More commonly it was remembering another task he'd started and not completed. He'd drop the half filled bucket of sweet green tubers, and run to the broken gate he was to fix or the or to feed the cattle-like chaunshji lizards they kept (raised for meat and the leather their thick hides provided) in a small pen in the yard. By the time he'd gotten there, he'd usually seen that the task had been completed by someone else, and typically he'd forget why he was outside in the first place. Someone would normally follow him out, and seeing that he'd started to collect the tubers, would finish up the job for him.

"That was supposed to be our dinner!" Modo once called out to him after seeing him chase around the chaunshji when one had grabbed hold of his left boot, yanking it off his foot and leaving behind a trail of thick bubbly saliva. Vinnie knew there were reasons to care, but found himself too distracted to pay much attention.

He was unquestioningly not what this family needed, to useless to help with even the smallest tasks. Vinnie would feel the heat rising in his chest, his fingernails dig into his palms when he clenched his fists. This place and these people deserved none of his problems. There were young children in this home. He may not have known much about how a family was supposed to work together and may have not known how integrate himself into all the established mental connections this family had, but he knew enough to know that his anger was toxic. When he could feel that storm rolling in, all he knew was that he didn't want to hurt these people. So he left and found someone else to take his anger out on. Anyone, really. So long as it wasn't this family.

---

Vinnie and Modo sat across from Throttle's sulking figure in the mess hall. Slowly, the two of them picked at the salty mashed potato medley that was often served here. Left without much variety in terms of food, the cooks would often take whatever starchy root vegetables they had on hand, roast and season them, and serve it to the freedom fighters. As they would taste different every time, from the different vegetable combinations, there was at least some amount of relief from the monotonous meal selection everyday.

Throttle, though he sat with his brothers around a large plate share between them, didn't seem to be much interested in eating.

"You're just going to be hungry. Then you'll be more grumpy later on if you don't eat." Vinnie tried to give his brother some advice. Throttle only grunted in response. "Hey, mouse. We need you on board. We gotta talk about what happens next."

"Next?" Throttle lifted his head. "What happens next is that we leave Charley-girl alone. These last couple days have been rough on her. We're gonna give her some space."

Modo's head shot up nervously. "But..."

"No. No buts. You're going to reign it in, bro. There's no reason to stress anyone out more than they've already been. So you keep what you're feeling to yourself."

Modo nodded, somewhat hesitantly.

Vinnie was finding it unusually easy to back off his consciousness from his bros. Normally they all did their best check up on each other's mental state, especially in moments of higher-than-average teension, like this. Here, however, Modo was overcome with worry (which was not a pleasant sensation for Vinnie), and Throttle was anything but focused. Vinnie had even caught him bruxing on and off throughout their meal. That type of self-soothing action was not common for their bro. He was there to stabilize them. Right now it seemed he couldn't even stabilize himself.

"So..." Vinnie cautiously began. "What's on the agenda for the day?"

Throttle glanced at him, unclenching his jaw and tightening his brow.

"Got word from up top. Two days, they said. Just finished building up the new recharge station for the ships and they want to make sure everything's working without any glitches. After that, it's just a matter of plugging in and soaking up the sun. Until then we've been asked to help out in the garage. There's less fighting and more building around here lately. They've got a new model of four-wheelers they're working on."

Great. Good old fashioned menial assembly work.

"Awe, come on Mouse. Isn't there anything else we can do? Why'd they have to give us the most boring job? We should be out there with the real Fighters. Not stuck in the Grease-cave with all the kids too young to have a bike of their own."

Modo clocked him on the back of his head with the tip of his tail. It wasn't hard enough to hurt. Not physically, anyway.

"Stop complaining, Vin. At least it's something to do."

Of course Modo wouldn't mind any kind of working with his hands. And, like always when they were all so disconnected with each other, Modo had slipped up and crossed one those lines he would have otherwise normally easily seen.

"...don't call me Vin." he muttered halfheartedly as an old memory of his father, fur dirtied from rough outdoor work, flashed through his mind.

Modo looked away, ashamed.

"Sorry, bro. I forgot."

"It's fine." He stood abruptly. "I'm going for a walk."

"Vincent..." Throttle put out warningly.

"It's fine. I just need a few minutes. I'll meet you guys in the Grease-cave in a little while." Vinnie walked away before they could say anything else. He ignored the lingering sensation of guilt Modo was giving off.

He shouldn't have been so whiny, in hindsight. The Grease Cave wasn't that bad. Kind of dull, but nothing to cry about. There was a deeper truth to his avoidance. One which he was certain the others had forgotten about.

Harley used to hangout in there a lot.

It had been her go-to hangout joint since it was where so many tools were kept. The deep loss and guilt he had when thought of her was almost overwhelming. That was a time when he had failed a woman. She had chosen him and wasn't strong enough to protect her. He had ventured into the foray of interacting with a female and had utterly failed at all the requirements that came along with it.

His bros, even other mice tried to console him about it. It was the fault of the enemy. Nothing he could have done. Hollow words. If Cave Mice had resigned themselves to that fact, that nothing was to be done, then they why didn't they give in to fish years ago? He'd survived too much to just take that as a reasonable answer. So the fault must have lain with him. Harley had chosen him, and he couldn't keep her safe.

If his link with his bros was even the slightest bit weaker, if he hadn't felt such loyalty to Modo's mother and sister and niece, the women of his clan...if all that hadn't been the case, he might have simply left. And not just the freedom fighters or the valley basin where they lived, but possibly Mars entirely. He wouldn't have been the only one. Many other Mice had given up on their world. Abandoning it in search of somewhere else more peaceful, where their families could grow without fear.

Cowards, all of them. Not that he had any place to say that when he was almost willing to become one of their number. When he was a kid, he'd learned that sometimes cowardice meant staying alive.

He could hear Throttle's voice of reason, penetrating his reverie as if he were standing there in front of him.

Not everyone is made for fighting. For some people, just surviving is almost impossible. Besides...

Such unusually clear words were not so common in their link. They typically stuck to pure emotions and images when communicating telepathically. Throttle must being trying extra hard to re-balance the three of them. The words themselves were without any real force, lacking Throttle's usual calm strength.

...we were once refugees too.

Generally Vinnie tried not to think about that. He brushed off Throttle's telepathic intrusion. He'd rather his bro left him alone for the moment. Better to leave the past where it belonged: away from him. But once brought up, it was almost impossible to forget. When they first crashed on Earth, Vinnie was mad enough to kick up a dust storm the size of Brimstone City. But Throttle, cool-headed as ever, kept them on track. The first order of business was to fix their bikes, then find water, food, and shelter. Luckily for them they were able to find all four in the same place.

Vinnie never liked bullies. He'd seen and experienced enough of them growing up that he'd developed a standard knee-jerk reaction to dealing with them, consisting of a single warning and followed by physical violence if that warning was not heard. So of course when he saw a Earth native female being harassed by an overweight gang-banger, dripping with some sort of bodily discharge, he reacted in what was in his opinion of the most reasonable reaction possible.

Granted what happened next was not his smoothest moment, but it always felt nice to try and rescue a pretty girl.

He wandered slowly, deliberately taking his time getting to the Grease Cave. Vinnie had half-noticed how crowded the halls were. Since he'd come back to Mars, after being thrown in the cut-stone prison cells, there hadn't been much time to pay attention to such trivialities. Here, in the more calmer moments, the comings and goings of his home were easier to see. He wondered what the state of the military was these days, if so many Mice had chosen to join the Freedom Fighters. Historically, the military generals liked to spread the word that his people were not formally trained or well supplied enough to be effective opponents against the Plutarchians. Propaganda, all of it. That fact hasn't necessarily stopped people from listening, apparently.

Maybe whatever was going on with Carbine had changed the Freedom Fighter's standing among Cave Mice. There had been more goings-on here than he could keep up with. Vinnie clenched his jaw, his arms seizing up with tension. He wasn't willing to wait around for more answers. Stoker taught them all long ago that nothing gets done if you don't get up and do it. His feet were moving before he'd even registered where he was walking.

The dull metal door to her office was unguarded. He wasn't sure what he expected. Everyone around here right now seemed to have some kind of task assigned to them, but none of them involved standing still. Without hesitation, he pounded at the door with the side his fist. A moment later Vinnie realized that he could have been more delicate. But as always, such realizations for him came a second too late.

Carbine answered, the door sliding to the left with the touch of her hand. One arm was propped against the doorframe, her forehead leaned on her bicep while she blinked sleepily.

"Yeah Vinnie?"

She ended her brief sentence with a yawn.

"Can I talk to you?" he fumbled. "Just for a few minutes?"

For a short second she looked up at him with a brief glare. It passed, and Carbine waved him in, rubbing her eyes. He followed her as she plopped down on a worn couch, her legs swinging over to the side, reclining with her back to the arm rest. On instinct his eyes followed the shape of her torso. If Carbine noticed, she ignored it.

"What do you need, Vincent?" She spoke with a cracking voice and closed eyes.

Vinnie paused. Yet again he had dove in with no plan. What was he even here for?

He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking down and away.

"So...I heard about the big news. How are you dealing with those new responsibilities? That's...uh...that's gotta be rough, right?"

Carbine open her eyes, pushing herself up on one arm and giving him a hard look.

"Honestly? I'm exhausted. I'd got more things to do than I have time to do them. I don't have time for small talk. If you can't get to the point..."

"...ModoandThrottlegotinfight." The words were out even before he'd realized he'd said them.

"What?" her soft voice, truly shocked, reminding him a female's fragility.

"...yeah." he answered. "The day before yesterday."

Her eyes darkened.

"I see." She shook her head. "That ridiculous man!" Carbine swung her legs down to the floor. "I wanted to prevent anything like from happening. Vinnie, I wasn't trying to make any problems."

"They're not fighting now!" he spoke quickly. "I mean...we figured it all out."

Carbine crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"How many punches needed to be thrown before you all got to that point?"

He half lowered his head, and did not look directly at her. What Vinnie was avoiding, he could not say.

"Hey, that's just how us grunts solve problems, babe."

"That is incredibly stupid. Why waste energy fighting each other, when you could be doing so much more with yourselves?"

Vinnie shrugged. "Guess that's why you're the general and not us."

Carbine groaned.

It was complete instinct that made him want to step forward, sling an arm around her shoulder, and toss out a few good-natured platitudes of Cave Mouse behavior. He did not, however. As he leaned into the first step, he remembered that he was speaking to a woman. One did not cozy up to women. They were the architects of society, not common soldiers, like him. There was a baseline level of respect all women were given, and it was not shown by treating her like one of his bros.

With a heavy sigh, Carbine rested an elbow on her knee and pressed her forehead into a hairless palm. Vinnie could not remember the last time he had seen her so...tired. The Carbine he knew kept a hold of the Mice she led. He'd seen her direct soldiers and plan battles, while never letting the emotions and temperaments of her subordinates get out of her control. She kept her house in order. She was their leader, and she was damn good at her job. But, like Charley, life seemed to be hitting her a little more than hard at the moment. Why was the Goddess putting these women through all this? He hoped at the least Trace was doing alright.

"What were they fighting about, exactly?" She rubbed her brow with a scarred, delicate hand.

"It was just…" Vinny wasn't sure if this was even something he should reveal to her. "Modo has this crush…"

Her eyes narrowed.

"Who?"

"It was never anything serious. He just feels what he feels, you know?" He saw her questioning glare and knew there was no way he could withhold this information now that the topic was brought up. Still, he wanted to protect Charley from any unnecessary drama. She had already had enough of an adventure since coming to Mars. "She was just there for us when we were stranded. For a long time she was the only friend we had on Earth."

Carbine nodded, her expression tight.

"That Human woman."

While he never was much of a strategist, he wondered if he could distract Carbine from thinking about Charley too much. For her, he was willing to bring a topic of conversation of which he would otherwise be perfectly happy with just forgetting.

"Look..." Vinnie wasn't sure how this sentence was going to end. "...I get that things are changing, for pretty much everyone around here. I know you have a lot going on, and I don't want to stick my nose where it doesn't belong, but..."

Carbine peaked up at him.

"You want to know why I called it off." she finished for him.

Vinnie felt himself nod.

"Look...you are all great guys." Carbine slumped backward on the couch. "But the situation has changed. My needs have changed. I don't want to make life more difficult for you three. Trust me, the way things are headed for me, things are about to get very difficult. It's better this way."

"...how do you know that? How do you know we couldn't handle it?" Vinnie didn't know if he was speaking from a position of wanting to defend his bros, or from something deeper inside himself.

Something he wasn't willing to address yet.

"Because, Vinnie. You don't get to a place of leadership like where I'm at without getting really good at reading people's strengths and weakness. You are all really great guys and I'm not doing this because I think something is wrong with any of you. If anything, I'm doing this because I can't be the kind of person you guys need."

"But all that stuff you said to Throttle..."

"That's all true too. At the end of the day...we're not right for each other."

It was harsh rejection to hear.

"Okay. Fine. Whatever. But there's one more thing I gotta know."

Vinnie watched her face transform into a soldier's mask. She hardened herself to whatever he might accuse her of. It seemed she expected his criticisms.

"Why'd you do it? Why did you lock us up? Why didn't you trust us? We're Cave Mice and we're Freedom Fighters. What reason would we have for turning tail on our own people?"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Look..." The hair on Carbine's neck and arms poked up a bit straighter. "I know. And you're right. And it's really easy for me to say all this now, after the fact when things are calm and I have more information. But in the moment..." Carbine turned to look at him. "I don't know if this is something makes sense to you. When you have people whose safety are your responsibility, you have to be aware of every potential threat. No matter how unlikely. It wasn't anything personal. I had to make sure that you guys weren't a danger to the rest of us. You've seen it before." Carbine gestured outwards. "There have been traitors and double agents and sleeper agents and every other kind of threat imaginable. I just wanted to keep everyone safe. That's my job. My first priority. I can't let personal relationships change my judgment. Can you understand that?"

He could. It was a difficult reality, corroding at some part of the morality he'd always hoped his people still had, but in the end it did made sense to him.

"Do...do you think," Vinnie's voice felt artificial in his own throat. "...you and me...we'd been alright together?"

That gave her a smile.

"Oh, I'm sure you would have driven me insane." She sat up a bit straighter. "We'd have figured it out eventually. You're a good guy, Vinnie." Her head dropped low, and a small smile tugged at her cheeks. "I think somewhere in that wild head of yours you have what it takes to make any girl happy."

Her words, while pleasing to hear, seemed to him to be a hopeless, impossible thing. It would be nice if it were true, but he'd rather be realistic.

Vinnie kicked at the floor. "Yeah...well..." he stammered, at a loss for words. "I guess I'll go...let you rest." He turned to leave.

"Vincent?"

The delicacy of her feather-light voice tugged at him in ways he did not know how to word. As a soldier it was his obligation to always obey his commander, but how does one remember the strength that can exist in such softness?

"You...you're not that bad. Just try and remember that, okay?"

Vinnie nodded, silently, both unwilling and unready to accept how much of him Carbine could clearly

see.

He fled her quarters before he could acknowledge what just happened, putting the last of their conversation out of his mind. Though he knew his bros would be aware of his interaction with Carbine, and wouldn't take much digging on their part to understand the details, he hoped they'd respect his space enough not bring it up anytime soon.

Vinnie retreated to one of the upper level caves. It was missing a wall where a blast had left a jagged edged opening out into the fresh air. The stone was blasted away, and all items of importance had been cleared out, leaving a bare stone floor with little more than rubble to sit on. Here, he did his best to isolate his mind from not only his bros, but also from the lighter, ambient cloud of consciousnesses that made up all the base's inhabitants.

Throughout his life he had heard stories of entire monasteries forging the liiashlau link between them. He could not imagine what that density of consciousness must be like with the average monastery size hovering around fifty to a hundred individuals. What must it be like if one of them died? It had been explained to him that the sensation of a dying brother was one of the most painful things his race could endure. Was that what the Phobosian monastery he lived in had done? He had no way to know. He was too young then. No one would have told him anything. He barely had time learn the Old Mountain dialect that the monks spoke, or to learn to read their odd boxy letters. At the time, he had only half known the swirling vertical script of the Western Plains language he'd grown up with. Before arriving there, schooling was a luxury he'd never had access to. Instead, he went with his father and brothers in the factories and fields or wherever they could find work. Eking out a living with little more than their bare hands. For the most part, in those days, he'd been too small to be of much help.

Vinnie drooped his head and rubbed at his eyes. Warm metal met his right hand. A sharp reminder of the injuries the Plutarchians and their employees had done to both him and his family.

He was hit by a sudden urge to see Charley again. He didn't even know what he would say to her. He just wanted to hold her shoulders at arm's length, where he could look at her from top to bottom and know she was uninjured. All he wanted was to feel her in his hands and know she was still here.

The old mama's connection to him would never be as strong as hers with Modo and Trace. Part of him was jealous of that, but it was nothing he could fault them for. It was, after all, a simple matter of biology that no one could change. He could sense enough to know that the old mama was content, which meant that Charley must be alright. Vinnie knew he had to be satisfied with nothing more than that.

Inhaling a deep regretful breath, he stood and made his way to the Grease Cave. He'd been assigned there anyways, and he made as well be useful.

---

When it was convenient, Throttle drove the long trek to the old mama's cave. Vinnie wanted to come. Throttle said no. When he asked why, the tan Mouse grumbled a half intelligible retort, which the other two interpreted as him needing to be alone.

As difficult as it was, as much he wanted to rebel and kick up a dust storm over seeing her again, in this case Vinnie let it go. Throttle left early that morning, which meant that he would be back later that night. It was only a few hours. He could handle a few hours. Watching the dust trail behind his bro's black Dune Kitten, he shuffled his way up to Modo's side.

"He's still got a sabersquid in his thoughts. And it's doozy, whatever it is."

Modo grunted a response, his thoughts elsewhere.

"I just want to asked her if she's okay, you know? She didn't seem at her best, when we saw her…" His mind split off into duel directions, picturing Charley both when she was falling from that cliff with Sand Raider chains still on her arms and of how unsure she seemed when they left her with the old mama.

Whatever happened next in his life, whoever they ended up with, whether it was some traditionally dominant Mouse woman...or Charley. Or no one at all...whatever happened, there was a promise he now had to keep. It was the promise he made to that deformed carving of the Goddess on the abandoned campsite of the Raiders. That moment before Stoker had shown up to scold him for his lack of basic safety precautions (and the old Mouse was right, no matter how much he hated admitting it) Vinnie had tucked his chin down and swore to his Goddess that Charley would never know suffering like he had. He would protect her from Raiders or anyone like them. Whatever repercussions that would come from his actions, he would endure. Maybe not quietly. Quiet was never in his nature, but he would do what needed to be done.

Modo all but abandoned him a moment later. It seemed that no one was in the mood for talking today.

There hadn't been much to do in terms of chores. The most recent batch of desert-ready vehicles had already been fully assembled and more parts for the next wouldn't be delivered for several days. He and his bros, would be long gone by then. Though, if he were honest, he could easily find something else to do to help out.

His heart wasn't in it. Vinnie needed some time to himself as well, it seemed. He resolved to spent the majority of the day in the base's small chapel. Years before, he had helped carve it into the hard rock. He had learned over his time in the Freedom Fighters that not all Mice feel the need to see a physical image of the Goddess in the way that he did. For some, it was enough to feel the stone and dirt beneath their feet and know their world was Her flesh. Vinnie thought differently, having spent a few years of his childhood in a temple and being exposed to all the traditional iconography. He needed a picture to focus on. He needed Her face.

He hadn't been the one to sculpt the image of her at the altar, of course. Vinnie did what he could to carve the walls and benches, chipping away at the stone with blunt-edged power tools. In this region of Mars it was common to see Her with an enlarged abdomen, heavy with child. He did not know who carved Her from the rusty stone, but it seemed they were a regional native. It was all the same to him. She was the Life-Bearer, mother to all. It didn't hurt to be reminded of that every now and then.

Meditation was never his strong suit. Maybe if he had spent his entire life at the monastery, as was intended, he could have developed some skills in that area. As it was, he never had. The hours passed sluggishly. Numbness spread though his buttocks as he rocked back and forth in mimicry of proper prayer, concentrating on whatever healing energy the Goddess may give to all those he knew where suffering now. Charley was the first he gave his attention to, followed by the other females of his extended clan. The old mama, Trace, Primer. A sequential lineage of women. That was where the power of his clan had lain. Whatever protection he could offer them, whether spiritual or physical...well, he owed them that at least.

He lost track of time in that small chapel, throwing himself before the only reliably solid train of thought he had. The Great Goddess. His Goddess. As he closed his eyes, it occurred to him that the image of Her that came to him was less familiar than he would have liked to admit. She was smaller, thinner. And Her fur...it was less substantial than he remembered. One could even say that She was nearly hairless.

---

Hours later, he emerged. The only indication he'd had of how much time had passed was the ache in his belly. Without much thought, Vinnie made his way to the communal mess hall. It seemed to him that all he had done since he'd come back to Mars was wander the halls and eat. Some Freedom Fighter he was. He couldn't even get his act together enough to more than minimally useful to his own people.

He shivered. That coat that Stoker had given him had been left behind somewhere. He couldn't remember where. Left with nothing but his bandoleers to cover his upper torso, the temperature reminded him that it must be night by now. The cold seeped through the stones and into the corridors.

Someone had seen fit to place a few large potted plants in the corners of the hallways. Long narrow heliotrope leaves grew from their turquoise stems. This species thrived in the caves, with little to no need of sunlight. Just a soil rich in minerals and a steady, if minimal, supply of water. It was a common house plant, though still an indulgence. If there was water enough for this kind of decadence, then things on Mars must have been changing much more than he'd realized. Either that or after hours in prayer the Goddess had rewarded by transporting him to an alternate timeline where things in were just easier. It was a ridiculous superstitious hope. He wanted to believe it anyways.

Vinnie froze.

There, at the end of hall, was Charley. She was wearing a worn leather coat. One of Trace's old things. It didn't fit her right. The hem of it went past her knees and sleeves were too long. She seemed so far away. Charley was right there in front of him, but she was so far away.

He ran to her, placing a hand on her shoulder to get her attention.

"Vinnie!" her startled eyes were wide. She placed a pink hand on her chest. "You scared me half to death."

He looked down at her vulnerable hairless hand, and could not help but realize how easily she could be injured. It occurred to him that she missing an entire layer. For her there was only skin and clothes. It was wrong, he thought, that any woman should be so without protection.

He let out a heavy breath, realizing that he'd finally lain eyes on her. There been nothing keeping him from her anymore. There had been so little to distract him from the thought of her for days and now she was finally here! His head was buzzing. Her eyes, as bright as chinzi flower petals, her fleshy skin, trembling from the low temperature. Vinnie tried to speak. His words wouldn't come out, lodged somewhere in his throat.

"Vinnie..."

Charley's voice sounded so far away, but she was right here in front of him.

How could he ever leave her again?

Before his actions could catch up with his brain, Vinnie felt her shoulders in his hands. She was against

the wall, and his increasing dizziness caused him to rest his forehead on her neck. Charley rubbed circles into his back reassuringly. Before he could even think, he had placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder. It was such a simple act, performed with some degree of nascent fear. Slowly, he lifted his head, looking into her eyes. Charley's lips were chapped from the dry cool air of Mars. And yet he found himself leaning forward, until his connected with her own. Immediately after, he realized what he'd done.

What am I doing? She's going to be so angry at me for this!

He could feel the tension stiffening her shoulders. She had stopped breathing. Her hands were on his biceps and Vinnie fully expected her to push him away.

Say no, he thought. You're supposed to say no!

But the rejection did not come. Instead, she opened her mouth to his, allowing him to press forward. And press he did, overtaken by instinct he didn't know he had. Her shirt was bunched between his fingers. Noticing this he let it go, running his hand up her back and down her arm, finally tangling his fingers with her own. He lifted that hand above her head. She made a small noise in the back of her throat. Vinnie felt a small thrill at that and with his other hand squeezed the junction of where her thigh and bottom met.

Maybe there were females somewhere out there with bodies nicer than hers. Girls with gorgeous waist length hair, tied up in elaborate knots. Girls with fur softer than freshly woven giaurous silk. But he wasn't interested in meeting them. He only wanted this woman, with her foreign shaped jaw, and her perfect legs.

And want her he did. Oh gods, he wanted her. Vinnie did not know he could want someone this much.

Charley had a scent about her. Something deep and earthy. Oil rags and human skin. Sebum, he thought, but without the castor-like undertone. She smelled like his dreams, his hope. She held the scent of a promise forgotten to be made. Of his life, not yet lived. With her now in his arms he felt he could finally just be, in all the ways the Goddess intended.

He pulled his lips from hers and whispered the three small words that were his undoing.

"Come with me."

She nodded shakily. Vinnie turned away from her, still holding her hand. His feet moved almost without thought. He tugged her along to one of the forgotten rooms in the back of the base. No one would bother them here. She sat down on one the rounded beds. He followed her, sitting close enough that their legs touched.

Vinnie didn't know what to do from here. He didn't want to admit he was nervous. The only experience he'd had was not anything he wanted to think about right now. To distract himself, he leaned in and kissed her again, figuring that was a decent place to start. Charley kicked off her shoes and sat up on her knees. She unclipped the bandoleers from his chest and they clinked to the floor with a heavy thud. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him down on the bed so he lay above her.

Vinnie could feel himself talk deep breaths. He was afraid to touch her. He'd never been this close and intimate with a woman before. It was as if he were breaking some kind of divine mandate. Yes, he wanted to experience this, and especially so with Charley. But lying here with her in this bed...he could not deny that in some part of his mind he thought he could never be given this chance. Those old feelings of unworthiness bubbled up to the surface. Vinnie tried so hard to push them back down, as he had for years.

Charley wrapped a leg around his hip and he nipped at her neck.

"That tickles!" she giggled.

Vinnie decided to fall back on what he did most often and be bold. Whether not he actually felt that way was not important.

Fake 'til you make it, as they say on Earth.

It seemed fitting to him to go by Earth wisdom while he had an Earth woman in his arms.

He reached down and undid his pants, while she the same. He touched her, not entirely sure what to expect. She had a layer of hair, so very different than the hair on her head. Thick and curled. It made him think of the heavy pelts that Mice who live in the poles often had, though on her it was not quite as dense.

He tried to be soft, slowly moving his fingertip around the outside of her entrance. Vinnie hoped his calloused soldier's hands were capable of any kind of pleasurable to her. He could feel the moisture slowly building. Charley took a sharp intake of breath grabbed his wrist. His fingers slid deep into her and he, wide-eyed and hesitant, was left to wonder what She could have possibly ever seen in him.

Vinnie wasn't sure if he meant Charley or the actual Goddess.

She was so open to him. So terrifyingly yielding. He would put the slightest pressure on any part of her and she would do exactly he wordless requested. Vinnie wasn't exactly sure what to do about this. It was never what he would have expected from any woman, and especially Charley.

He leaned in and left a light kiss on her forehead. As he continued, Vinnie came to understand that sex was a wet activity. No wonder his people thought it a sacred act. Water was shared between mouths, liquid flowed at the junction of their thighs. All of it spoke to him of life. Raw, unfettered living beings grasping onto each other, passion tugging at his instincts. Nothing was equal to the primal touch of a woman.

He may have called her Goddess at one point. He was certainly thinking it.

As she bounced astride his lap, Charley held tight to his shoulders. A fact which left him more than a little self-conscious. She was practically demanding he stay in close fur-to-skin contact with her. Although he, even through the haze of her warmth and his slow hesitant pace at which he met her hips, knew there was some protocol he should follow. Vinnie let her put her hands where she wanted, but he was reluctant to the same with his own.

Smooth hairless legs tightened around his thighs. He was lost to her, losing all track of time, all sense of himself as unique separate being. He was a servant of the Goddess, desperately trying reach her by way of a manic and fearful impetus. The just-barely-out-of-touch empyrean mass was quickly approaching. Charley was loudly proclaiming her appreciation. Vinnie felt as if he should be running. The adrenaline of this moment matched more of what he would expect from a typical flight or fight response. It was the intensity of the moments before a battle, or the fear of the first night he first entered the Phobosian temple. Only, this was an altogether dissimilar flavor of adrenaline, more foreign than anything he had experienced before. The only conclusion he could come to was this was what made women different to men. That they could bring out this energy...this power...that men were inherently lacking. This had to be what connected women to the Goddess.

Without warning, he felt muscles seizing up, as if a portion of his very being were being pulled from his body. He thrust up into her wildly, squeezing his eyes closed. A moment later Vinnie was frozen, not only unable to move, but unsure if he should ever do so again.

Exiting her body and curling to the side, he suddenly felt afraid. Charley rolled over onto her side, placing an abrupt shocking hand on his chest. It was too much, too soon. He was too sensitive for her just yet. A moment apart would have been easier. He buried his discomfort deep where she could not see it. It was better, he thought, that he did not try to connect his mind to hers. Better that she did not see him so striped of confidence. Oh, the things his bros would say if they could see him right now.

His whole body went rigid. His bros. His bros! He hadn't thought. He only saw her and acted without restraint, and in so doing he's violated the trust of his Liiashlau in the worst possible way. What Throttle going to do? Here, in this place where he was clearly not ready for Charley yet. And Modo...oh shit! Modo was going to be pissed! And with good reason. Had he been in his bro's position he would not stand for this at all!

"Are you alright?" Her soft voice pierced the air like a klaxon. "You're heart is beating so fast."

He looked at her, his thoughts filled with panic and he saw her cringe.

"I..." What could he say? What could he even do? "I have to go."

He quickly sat up, snatching his pants off the floor and throwing them on with abandon. He couldn't help but take a quick look back at her before he left. Charley seemed to shrink into herself. No, that wasn't right. He had to address that.

"Oh, no, Charley-girl. It's not you." He reached out to touch her face. "You're perfect."

Oh my Goddess, she was.

He leaned in and let his lips linger on her forehead for what he suspected was longer than was necessary, or possibly even appropriate. He had to leave before he lost the will to hold himself back a second time.

Vinnie fled his miserable way to his bike, speeding away at top speeds. He couldn't think. He couldn't act. He felt nauseous. Only after he had driven for hours, long into the night, could he begin to truly feel the wind on his chest, could he even begin to explore what had happened.

What had he done?

Did he regret it? No. No he did not. Being with Charley was easily one of the best things that ever happened to him. But there would be consequences. He wasn't going to escape them. And, while he seemed to have developed a rather dishonorable habit of running away from everyone these last few days, this wasn't going to be something he could avoid. He would have to answer for his actions.

It would be different if she was some stranger that he'd ran into in those halls. Or even if it had been she who asked for his company. But she wasn't a stranger. She was Charley and Charley was Human. And she was someone who Modo had very serious feelings for, and for whom Throttle wasn't even close to ready. Even for Mice, you don't go around taking your bro's place when it came to women. He had quite literally stolen from Modo and he would have to pay.

On top of all that, it hadn't been she hadn't asked him. He was the one who asked her, and that made all the difference. He couldn't absolve himself by saying that he was only obeying a demanding woman. That at least might be understood. Only that wasn't what happened. He had pushed, and decided, and acted all on his own. He was the only one at fault.

Vinnie stopped. His bros could feel his fear-laced thoughts, just as they felt his excitement and pleasure just a little while before. They were likely still in the Grease Cave, prepping and cleaning for the new shipment, where he was supposed to be, doing their jobs like proper Mice. Both of them were curious, sending him waves of reassurance. That only caused him to feel more guilty.

Well, he could run for only so long. He drove back to the base just as the sun began to peak over the mountains in the distance.

When Vinnie arrived, he did as Throttle had done before, the image of their private dwelling clearly broadcasted across their connection. As he walked, he clenched his fists until his arms shook. This was not going to be pleasant. But it was necessary. All actions have consequences. This was no different.

As he walked through the corridors, he tried not to broadcast his nervousness too loudly. He thought it more than possible, however, that some of the more sensitive empaths on this base would notice him no matter how hard he tried.

The door to their room was lurching in front of him. He placed a unsteady hand on the handle, hesitating on sliding it open. His bros were in there. He could feel their presence. Still, they were both sending him their concern. They desired to see him righted, no longer in whatever funk he couldn't seem to escape from.

Vinnie exhaled shakily and pushed the door to the right. The expressions on their faces matched in every possible way what they had sent him. They were not making this any easier.

"Vincent..." Throttle placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay? What's going on?"

He looked down at his feet before squeezing his eyes shut. Well, best get it over with. He braced himself both physically and mentally for whatever would come next.

"I slept with Charley."

---

The first day Vinnie officially became a Freedom Fighter was easily one of the best days of his life. Trace had brought her two husbands along for the ceremony, though they were not a part of it. Tradition had it that when new members were inducted into any kind of psychic link, usually only the people who were in that link already were allowed to be present. Often, family members were given exception, such as Trace's young twins. They barely came up to his knees. In this case, Stoker allowed it, since he was trying to recruit Trace's boys anyway. And Trace herself was a part of the freedom Fighters medical staff.

He was charged with excitement for what was to come. Though Vinnie had never quite calmed down over the years, through the tempering weight of Modo's stone-heavy mind, a consensus between him and his bros had eventually been reached. This had been accomplished only after Throttle's planning and resourcefulness was added to their thought-stream. And on the third scale lay Vinnie. He was action and impetus. He was the movement that made things happen. The three of them were a good balance for each other. They fit, with each of them complementing the others' weakness.

None of this would have been possible without Trace, his incredibly patient teacher. How strange it had been for him to open up to others for the first time, with Modo's sister as his original guide. Through slow and deliberate practice, she taught him how to be a Mouse again. Trace would help him clean off the dirt and blood from his fur, and after months of staying with them, when he was finally willing, she led him through the paths of his new family's minds. Here Trace (and later the old mama as well) showed him in greater detail than he could ever imagine what it meant to part of a clan. In a true clan, filled with good and honorable people, minor details like his ethnic pelage would make no difference.

And now here he was, every bit the full grown man, ready to take his place at the table with other soldiers fighting for their world. Vinnie watch as the mid-ranking lieutenant, an albino like himself, pressed his glowing antenna onto the center top Throttle's head, forging the permanent connection. He would be a brother to the Freedom Fighters when it was finished. A connection not unlike their own Liiash link, though this form of it was not nearly as powerful. It had some obscure name that sounded military in origin. He did not care what they called this link, as long as he could be a part it. As long as he could be worthy.

Vinnie shook with excitement. When the ceremony was over they would all be brother-bound for the rest of his life. Pass these raging emotions in his thoughts, there was hope. There was the knowingness that whatever happened from here on out he would always have some kind of extended family to fall back on. There was safety in the group, he reasoned. Safety that would keep them alive. Safety that he knew now he never wanted to live without.

The lieutenant was standing before him. Vinnie closed his eyes, silently nodding, as the other Mouse pressed his antenna against his skull, in the center of where his own antenna grew. Letting his mind go lax, Vinnie opened himself to whatever future the Goddess had chosen for him.

---

Vinnie could not remember the last time he had felt so cut off from his bros.

Part of this was his own doing, but other parts were nothing he could have changed. Carbine had chosen what she had chosen, and Throttle would feel what he felt until he was done feeling it. And Modo...well, he couldn't do anything about that now. He admitted the truth and accepted what came after. Vinnie had hoped that after his bro had gotten his anger out of his system, things between him and Modo could go back to normal. In hindsight it was a little naive of him to think it would be that easy. Now here he was, stuck on what had to be the Freedom Fighter's smallest ship, doing everything he could to avoid Charley's line of sight.

Even that simple act he'd been terrible at. She found him, and despite all of his intentions he could not withhold the truth. After that there wasn't time to wallow to in his own self-rejection. An action need to be taken. So he ran to Modo and told him what he'd done. Vinny acted hastily, again without thought. All he could think was getting the information out, at any cost. Now Modo, whether his bro realized it or not, was cutting him out entirely.

It's fine, he admitted. I deserve this.

It all wouldn't have been so bad If Throttle wasn't so absent as well. Their leader was going through his own issues and nothing could be done to speed that up. This just was what it was. It could not be changed. He felt a sudden surge of hopelessness arise within him. Vinnie could not tell if this emotion was purely his own. Generally he could distinguish between his feeling and his bros, but not today. Not when everything was just so messed up!

Why was he like this? Why did he always have to jump head first into everything without thinking about what happened after? Why did he wreck every situation they went into? Most of the time he could play it off like it was on purpose, and his bros were kind enough to go along with that the majority of the time. But he knew the truth, and so did they.

Vinnie had been the youngest of five boys. In an impoverished family like his, where superstitions ran rampant, that was not seen as an auspicious sign. He wondered what his father must have felt. It must have been like a confirmation. Proof that he and his ilk truly were cursed. It did not matter where he went or what he accomplished. In the end he would always be colorless.

---

The was a small area off to the side of the control room, barely larger than a closet. Whatever its original purpose was had been long forgotten. There were a few weights haphazardly piled in the corner. A layer of padding had been added to the floor. Vinnie chose to focus on the horizontal bar affixed to the wall above the door frame. After closing the door, he grabbed ahold of it. There were small grooves etched into the bar, allowing for a textured grip of the metal. He hoisted his chin above the bar and began to count.

After thirty he began to tire. Although he attributed that to the exhaustion of the changing gravity conditions over the last few days. Jumping from Earth to Mars was rough enough (and more uncomfortable than he was willing to admit), because of the programming set to the artificial gravity on board the ship. The standard practice was to set it to change, slowly, over the course of the journey to transition from the gravity of Mars to the gravity of wherever the destination might be. The difficulty here was that Earth wasn't terribly far away. So, in this case the gravity change was faster than was normal. Still, it beat the abrupt change of Karbunkle's transporter.

He picked up one of the hand weights. Sitting on small bench he pumped his arm.

A few moments before coming in here, he caught a sliver of a thought. It held the flavor of Modo's gentle country charm. His bro was a Mouse that had spent his childhood on the provincial fringes of society. Sometimes it showed more than others.

What Vinnie had sensed from Modo was not something he expected. It was too brief to even be considered a complete emotion. It was, however, pleasant. Hopeful even. It was all Vinnie could bear. The thought that he hadn't completely wrecked everything was a greater hope than he could have imagined. It was a thought he afraid to indulge. So instead he came here, hoping to to drown out any unrealistic expectations with a little adrenaline and exercise.

How, he thought, could I make this better?

Was there, in the infinite vastness of existence, any course of action he could take to fix things? Or at least make this situation just a bit more bearable for any of them?

Historically, when faced with the impossible, he's always turned to the gods for comfort. Occasionally, he even prayed to the lesser tribal gods that varied from region to region. The first generation children of the Goddess and her husbands, or one of their grandchildren. He'd occasionally heard throughout his life a particular belief in Martian theology. A feckless idea, spat from the mouths of embittered survivors, that the further one was descended from a great hero, then the less devine they could be. More corruption added with each additional rung to the bloodline. There was the veiled implication that any foreign DNA mingling was potentially fundamentally unholy. It all seemed to him a rather fundamentalist view, injected into the doctrine by someone who didn't like aliens. From the stories Stoker had told them, a generation ago the Cave Mice of Mars didn't subscribe to any kind of isolationist ideology. They had been rather liberal in those days, with many foreigners living on their world. Being in a relationship with one of them wouldn't have strange at all.

He wondered what other aliens might have thought of Martian religion. It was all rather nature-based, if he thought about it. Mars was the Goddess, and the two moons were her husbands. Although, those who preferred to worship Deimos tended to take this as more metaphor than reality. Creatures such as they, confined to the simple four dimensions of hight, width, depth, and time, could only handle so much. Those followers of Deimos concluded that their world was created the way it was to mirror the gods, so that lesser beings like as them could hope to have some comprehension of who was really in charge. And, as these days he was a vehement Deimos devotee, he too had adopted this ideology.

It could have been said that he had turned his back on Phobos, the god he was promised to. But that was never the way that Vinnie saw it. Phobos was useless. What did Phobos ever do for him? Left him on the streets, fighting for scraps, doing anything it took to keep himself alive. He gave himself over to the warrior god the second he became a Freedom Fighter. Deimos was an action-taker. Deimos moved and got shit done. Vinnie had no more use for a farmer. It was, perhaps, that Phobos was simply a god better suited for peacetime. That was not where Mars was right now. So, it followed that this could not be a time for Phobos.

Vinnie's biceps burned from the exertion. He pushed through it, ignoring the pain. Some instinct, deep within him, cried out that there was something more than guilt to be had here. Not that his guilt wasn't well deserved. It was. There was no getting around that, but that one explanation felt incomplete. He couldn't say why. Maybe whatever Modo was going through was actually affected him more than he realized. Right now Modo wasn't even entirely open him, at least not in the normal sense, and here he was bringing Vinnie comfort. Well, at the least, no screw up of his could ever permanently wreck their brother-bond. For better or for worse, they were all stuck together.

How would Charley react the next time he saw her? He didn't expect to be on her good side, that was certain. But beyond that he could only guess. He ran from her presence as soon as he could, and had no intention of looking back. Vinnie was afraid of her, if he was honest with himself. It was always healthy to have a baseline of respect for all women. In the case of Charley, however, he was in awe of her because he was attracted to her. Women were inherently more divine by nature than men. So he should be fearful her, shouldn't he? It was only natural. Honestly he didn't know how Humans had survived past the tribal hunter-gatherer stage without recognizing the sacred nature of life-bearing women.

During his years on Earth, he'd read and watched in their so many old stores, both fiction and historical. In ancient times the men of earth blamed their wives for not providing children of the preferred sex. He knew his own people weren't perfect and they were plagued with similarly barbaric behaviors, but at least they understood basic biology. That a child was male or female nothing with the woman's body. The man's contribution controlled that.

It was here he was faced with a dark, painful possibility. What and his bros would contribute to Charly could potentially create a child doomed to solitude. He knew what that felt like. Granted, it wasn't where he was at now, but he knew what it was to be alone. Well, he decided, even if that were to happen he would make certain her children would always have a family to fall back on. It wouldn't matter what the universe would throw at them, he would protect his family. Even if all that meant was protecting them from loneliness.

Vinnie dropped the weight on the padded floor, watching it bounce once before rolling against the wall. He opened the door and carefully peeked his head out. He didn't see anyone. Specifically, he didn't see Charley. Letting out a relieved breath, he ventured out. Vinnie thought maybe he could grab a snack before heading back to the small room.

He froze as he heard her voice. She was in the control room, saying something to Throttle. The door was open and he could hear Throttle's strained voice as well. Part of him wanted to help. Another part of him knew it wasn't his place. He thought it best to leave them to it.

As he meandered down the hall he saw Modo, slouched against the wall on a small built-in bench. It was best for him to start making amends. Hands buried in his pockets, he quietly made his way over to his bro.

"Hey."

---

The next day Vinnie found himself back on Earth, where despite all his screw ups, hope had began to creep back into his life. He was racing through the streets of Chicago at violent speeds, narrowly missing bumpers and street signs, leaning deep into the pavement as he made sharp turns.

Charley wanted him. She wanted him! They were all together and she wanted them! It was more than a dream come true. It was more the fate he'd hoped for. Beyond the life that his father had, or anything his childhood siblings could have had, had they been given the chance to live. Modo's low-key hopefulness had been spilling over onto him for a while now, and now he was getting hit head on with all the reasons he could still have what he thought would happen with Harley, before he'd failed her. Later again he'd hoped for something similar with Carbine. A woman, a family, a complete place to belong. He would find this with Charley, someone with whom he'd had a long standing attraction to.

He thought back over the years. Charley had often occasionally flirted back at him, half seriously. That had to mean she was at least a little interested. It did confirm that she didn't engage in the kind of xenophobia that was often common among people who had never left their own world. They could work with that, right? Right. They could make it work.

There was a kind of excitement that came with thinking about how she would link up with them. Throttle's protection link wasn't going to work for all of them. And, to be honest, it wasn't even sustainable for Throttle. An accident like wasn't built for an enduring relationship. They needed a more open form of mental connection. It may have worked for a while, but even Vinnie could see that a one-sided protection link could only get them so far. She could send out to them all she liked, but at the end of the day, it just wouldn't do anything for Charley.

There was a number of ways he and his bros could go about this, as soon as Charley was willing to have more telepathic communication with them. There were some connection types that emphasized tactile sensation over the emotional, and others that tended to focus more in specific ranges of emotions. Some encouraged wild unfocused passion in the group. Others were more meditative, often chosen for their ability to help spouses from vastly different cultures to get along a little easier. Maybe she would pick something like that, even if Vinnie preferred a little more action. Whatever she chose, it would be an adventure for her and a duty of joy for them.

He could not help but admit to the secret emotion of relief he felt at serving his Goddess through pleasing his woman. His woman. His woman. His Charley. And he...he had been inside her. With everything else that had happened, with all that he had to take responsibility for, somehow he'd not really had a moment to reflect on the fact that he'd been intimate with her. He'd shared with her a closeness that he was beginning to wonder if he'd ever have a chance to experience with any woman. He had had sex with Charley! If she was willing, he badly wanted to do so again. At the moment though, he wasn't sure when that could happen. It would have been easier to draw from Throttle some kind of patience, but that wouldn't be happening anytime soon either. He only hoped that the stinkfish and his lackeys didn't regroup before the three of them sorted themselves out.

It would all work out. He just knew it! Everything was falling into place. Now they only needed to fix themselves. Then everything would be perfect.

Vinnie let out a whooping holler as he drove up to the board. He burst through the door, without a thought for whether it would survive his excitement.

"Modo!" he bellowed, impatient to tell him what had happened. "Bro!"

---

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions. The severity of their disconnection slowly began to dissipate, and the three of them fell back into something close to a normal routine. Throttle still wasn't opening up, but all the resentment that had built up between them on Mars had nearly evaporated into nothingness.

Whatever was happening with Throttle could wait, however, because Charley was opening up. Faster and more easily than any of them could have expected. She had invited Modo to her home. At night. For more than just talking. It was such a Cave Mouse thing to do, he could help but wonder if Modo's old lady had been talking to her about them. Had she given her any advice on how to have a relationship with them? How to keep them in line, more like. Vinnie knew he and his bros were a handful on a good day. And anyway, that would have meant that she had known about how he and Modo felt before his screw up. That didn't seem right. the timing was off. And Charley had not reacted then like she knew what was going on.

No, this was just the normal higher intelligence that all women had. That was the better explanation.

They came over the garage the next day. It was typical that they were there most days anyway, but this was different. Everyone knew what had happened the night before with Modo. The change in their relationship was palatable. It was a kind of electricity in the air. The sudden shyness she would have when one of them got too close. The lingering touches. Charley had had an affectionate relationship with the Mice for years before this, but there was now a meaning in those touches that hadn't been present before.

Throttle, as he had been doing, kept a noticeable distance from everyone. It wasn't just his telepathic connection with the two of them that were affected anymore, he was staying just out of arm's reach from all of them. He wasn't interested in getting too close to any of them in any context. He smiled and was polite to everyone. Nothing more than that, however. Vinnie could feel nothing significant from him, just a shaded numbness, too insubstantial to describe in any definite terms. This wasn't an entirely unknown sensation from his bro, but Vinnie had to admit it was a lot stronger now than it had ever been before.

Modo wouldn't even let him try to approach Throttle about it. Vinnie was going to confront the other Mouse, get him to talk about whatever it was that bothering him so much. He didn't like ignoring Throttle's issues, whatever they might be. It had to be addressed. Vinnie knew first hand what happened when someone let themselves get cut off from the people they claimed to love, and though he acknowledged that part of him might have been over reacting just a little bit, he didn't like the idea of Throttle ever being as lonely as he once was.

After a few days, his bros left him alone with Charley. Part of him half expected they wouldn't, even if logically he knew that this was exactly what Throttle had said they would do. A few days. Those were his words. Now they were here, and he was torn between fear and excitement.

They all had had dinner together, as they did most nights. Charley, having been too tired to cook after a long rugged day in the garage, had called up her local pizza delivery place and ordered everything they offered that was cheese-free. Their shared meal consisted of mostly hot wings and breadsticks. Meat was never something they would complain about. He liked the bread. They once had a similar grain-based concoction on Mars, but it hadn't been easily available since they were children. Vinnie had never had the chance to taste it. Earth food, or at least the version of it they had here in Chicago, had always been more than satisfying.

As his bros were leaving, Modo gave him a small smile accompanied by a string of emotions that could be translated into something like a reassuring slap on the back. Throttle, on the other hand, was uncomfortably blank. It was truly unnerving to him how distant Throttle had settled into being.

Charley was cleaning up the dishes after his bros had driven away. He leaned against the kitchen counter, watching her. Waves of awkwardness radiated off of her. Even without any permanent connections to her, he could feel it. He did not like it one bit.

He came up alongside her, nudging her side with his hip. Charley smiled at that and responded to him with a light shove. Vinnie reached over her shoulder with his tail and snatched the sponge out of her hands.

"Hey!"

He gave her a playful smile.

"Well, fine then." Charley crossed her arms. "You do the dishes. God knows I could use a break cleaning up after you three."

Leaning over her, he gave her a quick peck on the nose.

"Anything for my girl."

She smirked and the tension in the room lessened somewhat.

"When you're done you get a reward."

Reward? Where was she going with this? Part of him wondered how fast she would take things.

Charley opened up of the refrigerator and pulled out two large bottles of beer.

"Drove down to the brewery the other day. They got the new seasonal batch in." There was a light tap as she placed them on the table. He looked over his shoulder to see the familiar labels.

"Ooh baby, a lady with good taste. You didn't want to share any with the guys?"

She shrugged.

"They would only let me buy two bottles. And even that I had to negotiate for. These small batches are hard to get hold of. Did you know they're forty bucks a pop?" She sat down. "I'll get the guys something else. Besides…" she ran a nervous hand through her hair. "I guess I just wanted to have...I don't know...something with each of you that's unique. I may not really know how all this telepathy stuff works, but I know you're not all the same person. So I got you this. And anyway, I always got the feeling you like this stuff more than they do."

"Yeah. Modo would drink bud light if there was nothing else."

She laughed, and he savoured the sound.

"What's wrong with bud light?"

"It tastes like piss, babe. Anyway, what'd they name this season's batch?"

Charley peered at the bottle.

"'Blot out the sun'. The never go halfway on these names, do they?"

Vinnie finished rinsing the last of the dishes. Using his tail to pull out the chair, he plopped down across from her. "It's always been their style. It's why I like 'em!" He picked up a bottle and plucked off the cap with audible pop. Charley's eyes followed his hands.

"I don't think that was a twist off, Vinnie."

"Not my fault these things are easy to take off. And this is just another reason why you're better off with a Mouse than any Human." He flexed his arms "Where you gonna find muscles like this on any Earth guy?"

Charley opened her mouth to reply, but instead said nothing. A second later she let out a soft smile and held out her bottle.

"Hmm." he replied. "Depends. What'll you give me?"

Her face fell flat.

"Dinner."

"Already had dinner. Try again."

She threw up her hands.

"I meant ever again, Vinnie."

He chuckled and took her bottle.

"Well, then…" He popped off the top and handed it back to her. Charley held up her bottle.

"To good old Zombie Dust!"

"And the three Floyds Brewing Co!

They both took a deep drink.

"Now that is definitely not light beer, babe. Great choice."

"Nah." She took another drink. "It's ten percent alcohol."

Vinnie gave her a long look.

"Huh. That's a lot."

Charley nodded while downing another heavy swallow.

"These small breweries know how to make it interesting. I'll give them that. Besides, you Martians are always going on and on about how the alcohol is so much stronger where you come from."

"Yeah, and my liver is a lot bigger than yours." Vinnie sat leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "You know, I get the feeling that I'm not the only one you bought this for." He gestured to their bottles.

After another drink, she shrugged again and avoided his eyes.

"Doesn't matter. Good beer is good beer. Let's just enjoy it."

He reached out a hand to her shoulder.

"Charley…"

"Look, I just don't want to overthink things. If I give myself half a chance I'm going to start, and I don't want to do that. So let's just get drunk and go from there. Or at least I will and you can get mildly tipsy."

"Yeah, but babe...I mean...do I really make you that uncomfortable?"

Charley ducked her head down. Her hair covered her face so he couldn't see her expression.

"It's not you, Vinnie. You're the same as you've always been. I know that. Maybe I'm just not ready to take things head on yet."

This he didn't like. This was like Throttle with his walls and walls of nothingness clogging up their perfectly good brother-bond. Maybe if it was just one or the other he could handle it, but both of these people he loved were closing themselves off from him. Vinnie never handled being alone well.

"Hey," His hand slide up her neck, resting on the side of her face. She did look at him then, with hesitant eyes and an uncertain smile. "...Charley, you don't got to do all this. Rule number one here is that you're the boss. Anything you don't want isn't going to happen.

She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. His Human seemed to accept his words.

"Just...drink with me tonight, okay?"

He didn't think he would get any other answer from her. Vinnie stood, stretching his arms above his head.

"You know, it's more comfortable on the couch. What do say we snuggle up in the living room?" He tried to give her his most charming smile. Vinnie didn't know where this night would go, but it wouldn't go anywhere good if she didn't relax a bit. He picked up both their drinks, assuming she would follow.

Settling onto the far left of the couch, he placed his bottle on the small side table and propped his feet on the coffee table. He looked up to see Charley scowling at him.

"At least take your shoes off if you're going to do that." She pointed to his boots.

"Heh. Sorry, babe." Vinnie kicked them off and held up her bottle. She swiped it out of his hand and sat down roughly next to him, eyeing his chest. His grin never faltered. "See something you like?"

She snorted, shaking her head.

"Could you take off your bandoleers?"

"Ooh." He leaned in. "No shoes and no top? Are you trying to get me naked?"

"That hardly counts as a top, Vinnie. It's just they're metal and really hard. It's not very comfortable."

He felt like he was missing something she was implying, but chose to not read into it too much. Looking over her playfully, he leaned forward, unclipped the bandoleers, and let them drop to the carpet with a dull thud. Charley turned so that her back was pressed up against his side, She pulled her knees to her chest and hooked his arm around her neck. Her head leaned against his bicep and the scent of her hair surrounded him. Although he couldn't see her face, he suspected she had closed her eyes as she took a long deep breath.

"Tell me something about you I don't know."

He had picked up his beer and held it loosely by the neck. That wasn't a question he'd expect her to ask.

"What do you want to know?"

"Just...anything, I guess. I thought I knew so much about you guys. Turns out I don't know anything. So help me out here. I don't know...tell me a story about when you were a kid. Tell me about something we don't have on Earth."

He was glad she facing away from him, because he wasn't sure how successfully he could hide his discomfort. Charley knowing about his past wasn't something he was quite ready for yet. The only people who knew the details were his clan. And Stoker, but that was never something that could be avoided. Although, she was his clan too now, right? He should be open to her. The only issue with that many of the things he experienced as a child were best described as a series of events he'd rather protect her from. He smiled to himself as he thought of something that might work.

"I...uh, I lived above ground for a few years. I was pretty young back then."

"That never really happens, right?"

"Babe, we're called Cave Mice for a reason. Living on the surface is for Sand Raiders."

"So why were you there?"

He shrugged.

"My parents sent me to this place. It was where all the priests lived."

"Like a church?"

"More like a monastery."

"Wait, what?" She sat up and twisted her torso to face him. "You lived in a monastery? Like with praying and meditation and fasting? Like a real monastery?"

"Yeah, although I didn't do any of the last one. Kids didn't do that. But there was a lot of gardening."

She burst out laughing.

"You had a garden? I mean...you? The velocity atrocity was a gardener?"

"Hey, it wasn't really my choice. My parents wanted me to be a monk."

Her face was completely disbelieving.

"But...why?"

He shifted uncomfortably.

"I don't know. We were kinda poor. I think they just wanted me to be taken care of. There was a lot more food there. I remember skipping a lot meals as a kid. That all stopped after they sent me away. Farming was like...a part of their religion there. No one ever went hungry."

"...oh. I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

He waved a dismissive hand.

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart. You didn't know. Anyways…" He coiled his tail loosely around her waist. "...that was a long time ago. Besides, things worked out. I got a pretty girl who cooks for me all the time right here." He flashed his teeth as he ran a hand down her ribcage. "Don't got nothing worth complaining about."

Charley gave him a shy smile.

"Well, that's a first. You're usually the king of complainers."

His hand traveled upwards over her shoulder, resting at the back of her neck.

"What can I say? I'm a talker. Always have been. I see something wrong, I ain't gonna hold it in." Vinnie set his drink down on table beside him, and curled his fingers around the empty belt loops of her jeans, pulling her into his lap. When Charley resisted, he stopped. She exhaled sharply, looking up at him. After taking a long draw from her bottle, she sat up on her knees, set her beer down on the coffee table, and straddled his waist. Her head was above his in this position, and after a moment of searching his face with questioning eyes, she pressed her forehead into his shoulder. With one leg on either side of his hips, his hands had perfect access to wander over her thighs.

"Oohh, I like this Charley-girl."

She swatted at his chest playfully, but did not stop him from touching her.

"So…" she started. "You were a monk?"

"Not exactly. I was a kid. You had to be there a few years before you officially joined. The word for what I was translates to something like 'beginner'."

"You hadn't taken vows yet. You were a novice."

He looked down at her.

"That's what we call it on Earth."

Vinnie gave a half shrug.

"So…" she ran her hand up his arm, against the grain of his fur. "...how come you didn't stay there?"

"Awe, babe. You know me better than that. When you're a monk, you don't get much excitement. That's no way for a hero like me to live!"

"Well," Charley tilted her chin up and tapped him on the nose with a delicate finger tip. "It seems to me that if you still a kid, you weren't a hero yet."

He grabbed her hand and gave her a sly grin.

"Hey, watch it babe. That's sensitive goods."

"I'll be careful." she laughed. "So you left the Monastery?"

Vinnie could feel himself wanting to shut down. He'd rather gloss over what happened next. Or just forget it entirely.

"No...no, I didn't leave." His arms settled around her shoulders, squeezing instinctively. He felt Charley nod.

"It was Plutarchians, wasn't it?"

He let out a hard breath.

"It's what they do. Destroy everything they touch and leave the rest of us with the mess." He pushed her back so he could see her face. "Things were always a little crazy for me when I was a kid. Well...I mean they were crazy for everyone. But...it wasn't the kind of life any kid should have. So I just want you to know that no matter what happens I'm going to protect you. I'm going to protect any kids you have. You will always always be safe."

She watched him silently for a moment. Vinnie wondered if that was the wrong thing to say. Eventually, Charley quietly tucked her head under his chin without acknowledging his words. He wasn't sure what to make of that. In his culture, when trying to get a woman to notice you, it was normal to lay all your cards out on the table. You tell them what kind of person you'll be. You let them know what they would have to look forward to. Maybe that kind of persuasion just wasn't just wasn't polite here on earth. At the very least, something he'd just said had caught her off guard.

Ignoring his confession entirely, Charley switched back to their earlier topic.

"Why did your parents want you to be a monk? Was it anything other than…" she hesitated. "...making sure you had enough to eat?"

"I don't know, babe. It was just the way things were set up back then."

"What do you mean?"

"Weeeell," he extended the word, trying to explain. "The whole priest thing...it wasn't always something you volunteered for. Mostly it just kind of happened." He took a deep calming breath before allowing some portion of the truth to come through. "Women were almost always born into the priesthood. Any little boys born there usually went to the temple of Deimos, the warrior god. But for Phobos, it was the rejects of society, like me."

"Oh, Vinnie." she swatted him on the shoulder. "You're not really that bad."

He nearly flinched. Charley echoed Carbine's words. Things like that didn't usually happen unless people had some sort of link up. That got him thinking. Did Charley and Carbine…? No, that didn't seem likely. Maybe these women could simply see something he could not. Paying attention to everyone was normal for women.

"So, explain this to me." she continued. "What exactly is wrong with Phobos? I've always gotten the impression that these days you Mice are pretty religious. Isn't being a monk a good thing?"

Vinnie scoffed.

"Who wants to live in the middle of nowhere, above ground, doing nothing but farming for the rest of your life? They lived like they were in the stone age. Called it 'an ancient and sacred way of life'."

"Hey, some of us have lived our whole lives above ground."

"Yeah, but it's different here. It's not so bad when everyone's doing it. Out there, we were kind of alone. A lot of people would say it's not safe to be so exposed. I think the only reason we weren't attacked by Raiders or bandits or something like that was because people were so religious on Mars. But the Plutarchians...they didn't have the same restraint."

She shifted uncomfortably. Maybe too much talk of genocide left her not knowing the right thing to say.

"What's the problem with being a farmer?" she half whispered, her tone edged with confusion.

"Nothing, I guess. It's just..." He flung his arms out over the top of the couch. "...boring!" He shut his eyes, trying not to think about all the good times he had there. All of the peace and safety he knew as a small child. It had all been an illusion anyways, shattered into a hundred thousand pieces when the Plutarchians came.

He opened his eyes, tightening his tail around her waist.

"If I'm gonna live above ground, I'd rather it be right here with you."

"Oh, Vinnie." Charley said again, bumping him on the shoulder with a light fist. She sat up in his lap, leaning back to reach her beer. After one last long drink, her bottle was empty.

"I think I need a glass of water." She looked up at him impishly. Rising from his lap, she padded toward the kitchen. Vinnie took the opportunity to watch her retreating form, her behind swaying as she moved. He picked up his own half-full bottle and followed her.

Charley walked about the kitchen, wavering slightly with each step. She dropped the beer bottle in the recycling bin before snagging two glasses from the cupboard. Vinnie chugged the remaining contents of his drink and left the bottle on the counter. He slinked up behind her, resting his hands on her hips and nuzzling the back of her neck. She giggled.

"You're drinking one of these too, mister." Charley turned on the tap and filled the glasses.

"I'm not really thirsty, babe." He nibbled at the back of her neck. She twisted in his arms, holding up a glass.

"Drink. My dad used to say that answers to most of life's problems are usually one of two things. You either got someone you need to forgive, or you should be drinking more water. Most of the time it's both."

Vinnie dropped his hands and took the glass with only minor reluctance.

"Oh, well...I guess a little old Mouse like me can't begin to disagree with the wisdom of old man Davidson."

"Damn straight." She nodded toward the table. He followed her and sat down, watching as she sipped at her glass.

He wasn't sure how she made him feel so...he didn't know how to explain it. It was a warmth that began in his torso and spread through his extremities. It was a peacefulness he couldn't quite settle into. When he was alone with Charley...he felt safe. Why a woman, of all creatures, should cause him to feel such, he did not know. Women were supposed to be protected. It was his job to make her feel safe, not the other way around. Yet here he was. Vinnie reached out and touched her face. He wondered how obvious it was that he wanted her.

"Babe…" His eyes drifted to the side. "You know I'm into you, right?" The alien smoothness of her skin was still startling to him. Even now, after so many years of knowing her. "I mean...I know I've always told you that. It's just...I want you to know I really mean it now."

She raised a curious eyebrow.

"Did you not mean it before?"

"No! That's not what I'm saying." He rushed out.

Charley giggled.

"Relax, I'm only teasing. I get what you mean." She placed a gentle hand on him. "It wasn't real before, so it was different. Right? Now…" She nodded solemnly. "...this is an agreement we are all participating in."

Something about that seemed harsh.

"Is that how you see this?"

Her eyes flickered up to him.

"I've promised to be open to you guys. I keep my promises, Vinnie. Besides…" She let out a deep breath. "I almost didn't. I kinda feel ashamed of that."

That was an unexpected revelation.

"When did you…"

"The other day." Charley interrupted. "When I…" Her voice lowered. "When I called Modo to come over."

Vinnie leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and chuckled.

"Yeah. I gotta admit babe, that surprised all of us. We were thinking you'd need more time."

"Maybe I did, but I needed to talk to him. Besides, afterward he did this...thing and it was a lot easier to relax." She stopped. Her eyes narrowed and slowly she looked up at him. "Vinnie...is it normal to get inside someone's head and mess around with how they think? Like, on purpose?"

"Uh...not really. Why?"

Charley shrugged.

"I'm still not sure what exactly happened. I told Modo I didn't want to get too close right now. But...there's other ways connecting to people than just mind-walking, isn't there?"

"Well sure." He gave her an encouraging grin. "A mind-walk is like a hard-line connection. It's direct and really strong, but it's not the only option. It's good for starting out, though."

"But if you're not doing that, what other ways are there of getting in someone's head?"

He leaned towards her, smiling mischievously.

"Why? What did he do?"

"I…" She started. "Look, I don't really know. I was getting kind of panicky. I was scare of all this..." she gestured to her head. "...mental stuff. I thought I wouldn't be able to handle it. Then he just gave me a hug and I almost felt like I was on drugs. After that I wasn't so scared anymore." Her cheeks flushed red. "We were together later that night. Is it weird to be talking to you about this?"

He shrugged.

"It's fine if you want to. Where we come from, sex isn't really a shame thing like is here. I gotta admit, I don't really understand why you Humans like to think that way. Kids gotta come from somewhere."

She nodded.

"I...I don't know exactly what happened after that, but I think he might have done something. I remember looking at him and…" Her eyes seemed to gloss over. "...it was like he was too perfect to be real."

Vinnie couldn't help but smile.

"Awe, that's cute. It's not a big deal, bade. He was probably just feeling insecure. Have you and Modo mind-walked before?"

"Yeah. Back on the ship." She went completely still. "It was...intense. More than I knew what to do with. I didn't know what was normal then, and he…" Charley squeezed her eyes shut. She took a shaky inhale. "He got...I don't know. I couldn't stop thinking about anything but him. I was really lost it for a minute. But…" her eyes opened and she graced him with a warm smile. "It's Modo, right? You know what he's like. It's impossible to stay mad at Modo."

"You were mad at Modo?" He nearly interrupted her. He really wished he knew these things. If only Throttle wasn't so closed off. He was the only one here who was fully connected to everyone.

"I was scared."

"Of Modo?"

"No! I…" She was pulling away, withdrawing inward. "I'm not even sure, to be honest. I was so confused. I didn't understand any of this. I'm not even sure why any of you want me. I still don't know how any of this works."

She didn't know why they wanted her? How could Charley say something so ridiculous?

"But babe…" he coiled his tail around her ankle affectionately. "You're totally hot! Why wouldn't we want you?"

She glared at him playfully.

"That's sweet, but you know what I mean. Why me? Why not another Martian Mouse girl?"

He did know what she meant. And though, while he was completely honest with her about everything else, she deserved to understand the truth. Besides, women always found out about these things eventually.

For a moment he couldn't meet her gaze. He found himself rubbing up against the vein of guilt he seemed to running into so often these days.

"We...we tried that. But, you see...they're aren't many left. And for the ones that are...we just don't seem to be good enough."

Charley nodded solemnly, accepting this reality with more grace than he thought he deserved.

"That doesn't mean that we want someone else!" He was afraid she would misunderstand him. "It's you, you're what we want. You're not some second rate leftover for us. We love you, Charley." He didn't know how accurate that was. Well, he knew he did, and Modo was pretty clear about his feelings. It was Throttle he couldn't speak for.

"No, it's fine." She spoke calmly. "I understand. I don't hold anything against any of you. I just...I wonder if you all will find what you're looking for in me. I can't be like a Mouse about everything. Sometimes I'm just going to be Human. I don't want to be a disappointment to you guys."

He laughed out loud at that.

"Babe, that ain't gonna happen."

"You say that now. You don't know the future."

She was right. He didn't. What he did know was that sitting across from him was a woman whose image had been locked into his mind for at least a couple of years. A woman he'd come to care about personally so much. A woman for whom he had easily and happily sworn to protect for the rest of his life. He had done so without any hesitation.

The next phrase came to him so easily. It was like it was always there.

He would be anything she wanted him to be.

The power of that statement was shockingly strong.

Without thought, the end of his tail wandered up the outside of her thigh. Charley ducked her head down and watched him through hooded eyes.

"I could show you." he offered. "I don't know everything, but I know enough to see where you're at. I...I don't want you to feel like you have to do anything." He did his best to hide the fact that compelling an icon of the Goddess to do anything she didn't want to physically nauseated him. "But...I could show you...there's no way you could a disappointment to us."

Her unblinking eyes flickered back and forth, scanning him from all potential angles. Vinnie was never particularly sensitive as empaths went, but he knew what nervousness looked like. He watched a rapid progression of emotions cross her face, as she clearly did her best to squash down any discomfort she had. Eventually, Charley acceded.

"...okay." she nodded. "Convince me." Her voice was whisper-soft. It was the hush of the wind over the sand dunes on a cold night. It was the gentle comfort of settling back into home after an extended journey.

It occurred to him that this was first time a woman had asked him to stay with her. Before, back on Mars, she hadn't really asked. It was more like…she hadn't said no. He wasn't sure how concerned he should be with that. She hadn't minded, as far as he could tell, but Vinnie knew he had an unfortunate habit of missing the obvious. It was always better to at least make a point of at least staying on top of it.

Vinnie smiled. Convince her, eh? He could do that. Slowly he stood and walked behind her chair. He rested his hands on her shoulders, massaging his thumbs into her back. She rolled her shoulders in his hands. He leaned down, inhaling her feminine scent.

As he nipped lightly at the skin of her neck, he heard her sigh pleasantly. His left hand drifted down her arm, until he tangled his fingers with hers. Charley tilted her head to the side, nudging his head away from her.

"That tickles!" she giggled.

Vinnie made a sound deep within his throat, pressing on. Soon her laughter changed to low moans. His other hand pressed against her stomach, slipping under her shirt.

This is the easy part, he thought. She didn't seem that interested in asserting authority over them in the bedroom. While this bothered Modo a bit, Vinnie didn't mind it mind it so much. Charley was an action-taker when it suited her. She could switch to boss mode in a second and he knew it. Their Human left nothing to be desired as a clan leader, as far as he was concerned. Besides, the freedom she gave them was easier for him. His bros liked to keep him contained, convinced that without the mental equivalent of a padded room he would go completely wild. Well...maybe that wasn't entirely untrue, but it was nice a have a bit of wiggle room every once in a while. Right now she was giving him all the space he could ask for.

She squeezed his hand, while his other hand dove under her hem of her pants. He navigated through the thick curly hair he found there, seeking her sensitive skin. He shifted his head so that his forehead rested against her temple, letting out a heavy sigh. From this angle his antennas were just able to reach the top of her skull...

Charley gasped roughly and abruptly stood, twisting and shoving his shoulders away from her. The sudden disconnect burned at the tips of his antenna and stung at the base.

"Why...why was..." she panted out.

Vinnie, stunned and shocked, was at a loss for words. She didn't just break contact, she threw him off just as he was making the connection. That had hurt! Why would she push him away like that? There was fear in her eyes as she stood with her back against the wall.

He couldn't speak, couldn't reply. His nervous system was too jolted to think clearly.

"You tried to mind-walk with me." Charley covered her eyes with her hands, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "I wasn't ready for that."

"Y...you weren't ready? What the hell, Charley?"

"Why would you do that?"

"Why wouldn't I? You asked me to convince you!"

"But you've never done that before!"

He recoiled from the tone of her voice. 'That', she had called it. He had tried to be close to her in the most intimate way possible, and all she could do was spit out a vague word, as if she afraid to call the act for what it was. Why she being like this? Did she want him or not?

"I..." he felt his shoulders slump. "I thought...I mean...hasn't enough time passed? We talked for so long. Don't you trust me? Can't we just be open with each other now?"

Charley's face burned with frustration. Her eyes were dark. Vinnie was so confused.

"Some warning would've been nice." she huffed, crossing her arms.

He watched her, trying to understand what had happened. Though his general empathic abilities were never the strongest, he could feel her putting up walls and walls, cutting off from not only him but almost anyone who could have come near.

He carefully followed her with his eyes, seeing her chest rise and fall in an adrenaline induced rush. He really had scared her, hadn't he? But why? What was so frightening about wanting to be close to her? If she was so uninterested in opening up her mind to him, then why would she leave such a wide open space for him to act?

Then, he rationed, that couldn't have been what she was doing. This was so confusing. Charley was a woman. Paying attention to everyone is what women did. But...was she? It seemed to him that if she really was paying attention then she wouldn't have been so scared.

And then he realized the truth of the situation. She was like him. Or at least, how he used to be. Charley-girl did not know how to link up. She did not know how to form the connections.

"You...you're not giving me any freedom, are you?"

Charley jutted her head slightly to the side, the harrowed expression slowly dropping from her face.

"What?"

"I mean...you're not just being nice. You really aren't doing anything."

Her eyes narrowed angrily.

"Just what am I supposed to be doing exactly?"

Vinnie stared at her for a long time. He was an idiot. How did he not realize what was going on? Charley wasn't giving him freedom. She wasn't doing anything at all!

A knot grew in the pit of his stomach. Was this how she would reject them? They could have a physical relationship with her, but not be allowed to develop the the true bonds of a family? Vinnie felt something break inside him. His eyes stung.

"Do you even want me?" he whispered.

She looked offended.

"I'm here, aren't I? Haven't I already proved that I'm open to all of this? Besides, we've already been together."

"I'm not talking about sex, Charley! I mean me." He held a hand up to his sternum. "Just me. Don't you want me?"

Something like guilt shaded her face. Her jaw clenched, and she looked away.

"I had a feeling something like this was coming." Her eyes drifted upwards. "Maybe it was naive of me to think that I could go on staying inside my own head. I'm not trying to reject you. It's just…not easy for me."

Connecting to someone was not easy? There was nothing in the universe that was easier. Or did she mean this whole relationship? Vinnie wished more than anything he could just link up with her and understand what she meant.

There was a recognizable scent in the air. It was one he was familiar with, but it was not one he'd ever have expect to come from Charley, and most certainly not when they were alone.

"Babe…" He spoke gently. "Are you afraid of me?"

She would not look at him.

"Charley, there's a lot of things in the universe to be scared of, but that's not one of them."

"Maybe not for you! You've been doing this your whole life, so you have no idea what it's like for me." she slumped against the wall and her voice cracked. "It's hard! I get pulled in all these different directions. I feel so many different things and don't know if it's coming from me or the other person. It's like I have no control."

His heart broke for her. Vinnie never expected Charley, of all people, to doubt herself. She had so much strength in her. He'd seen it so many times!

"You don't get it at all, do you?" He approached her slowly. "You have all the control. You give us a nudge in any direction and we'll do whatever say."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but that doesn't really help me." She crossed her arms, shoulders hunching inward. "Maybe I just don't know how to be what you need me to be."

He let out a long, tired exhale. They stood in silence for a few minutes. What was he supposed to say to that?

"You're wrong." he murmured eventually.

She looked up.

"About what, Vinnie?"

Her tired, disbelieving voice was too much for him.

Letting out a shaky breath, he answered.

"I haven't been doing this my whole life." He looked up to the ceiling. "When I was a kid, I didn't have good connections with people. I didn't know how to do that. It's kind of that same as where you are now, right?"

She hesitantly tilted her head up to him.

"That's not normal for Mice, isn't it?"

He gave her a sideways look. Honestly, he didn't think it was normal for anyone, but that probably a whole different conversation.

"For me...when I was younger I just went a long time without anyone I was close to. And then I just...forgot." He looked down at his hands. Those were more difficult times than he was often willing to admit. At the time he had no idea, being surrounded by so much destruction, that it was all caused by the by the Plutarchians. Well, they weren't responsible for his being born what he was, but their invasion hadn't made things easier. He cleared his throat. "Trace, Modo's sister, she helped me a lot. Her and the old mama. They..." He knew what to do. He could do for her what they did with him. Vinnie shifted his weight and turned to look at Charley. "They showed me how to connect with people. I can do that for you too."

The strength of that scent grew. Charley stared at him unblinkingly.

"How?"

"It takes practice, and you can't be afraid of me being inside there with you." He gestured to her skull. "I'd be like your training wheels, until you get stronger and can take control on your own."

"You'd be mindwalking with me?"

"...yes, but not in the normal way. It'd be more like I'm spotting you at the gym." He took a step closer to her. Squeezing her shoulders, he spoke. "I know this can help you! Then when you get stronger, you can go back to being the tough scary boss and kicking us in ass when we're acting crazy."

She smirked.

"Is that how you see me?"

He mirrored her smile.

"It's probably the least any woman would have to be to end up with us."

Charley let out a rough scoff as her smile faded.

"I don't know if I'm ready to be letting anyone in me like that yet."

"It doesn't hurt." he reassured. "It's more like mental physical therapy. I was a really broken kid. I thought I would be broken forever." He chose to leave out the part where part of him still occasionally had that thought. Vinnie took a step closer to her. "Charley...look, this is safe. I'm safe."

Her head snapped up at that.

"...I know you are. But I..." Her eyes glistened. Vinnie wasn't sure what he would do if she started crying. "I'm the weak one here, okay? I'm the one who doesn't…"

He could take it anymore. If she was angry with him, then fine. Everyone was angry with him. He didn't see how he could make it any worse. Vinnie closed the distance between them, surrounding her with his ugly, colorless arms.

"You are a woman, Charley. I know, for Humans that doesn't mean very much, but it's different for Cave Mice." He pulled back to watch her startled face. "You are stronger, and smarter, than I could ever be. That's why I have to protect you. Because you can do so much more than me. That's how nature works. I will help you in anyway I can. I will be whatever you need me to be. Just let me be close to you. Just...let me protect you."

She looked up at him with tears falling down her face. The fear-scent grew as Charley nodded.

"I...I don't want to do this…" She wiped the wetness from her face with a bitter hand. "It scares me."

Oh, how he wanted to tell her of all his own fears.

"But I will." she continued. "Just please, be gentle, okay? Just be soft. I know that's not always easy for you…"

Vinnie brushed away her tears with a hesitant hand.

"I can be gentle. For you, Charley, I can be anything."

Her eyes narrowed and she looked away.

"Why do you all keep saying that?"

"What else can we do, babe? We'll do anything for you. You know that right?" Vinnie ran a hand through her hair. "This is how it works. A man looks out for his woman, no matter what. I'm going to look out for you. I know you're a lot smarter than me in a lot of ways. I...I know sometimes I'm not good at figuring things out. But this is one thing I can do for you. Babe...you can trust me."

Charley buried her face in his shoulder. He rubbed a gloved hand up and down her back.

"I do trust you, Vinnie." She squeezed his midsection. "Why is this all so hard? I wish I could just be what you all want me to be."

"Awe, babe. It's all kind of a learning curve. We know that."

She shook her head.

"But I'm not...open. I understand enough to know that's not how it's all supposed to be."

"Everyone's weak sometimes." he shrugged.

"Even you?"

He was afraid to answer that question. Afraid of where it would lead and of she might then know. He hated his own childish fears.

In the end, he said nothing. Charley, hopefully sensing his unease, did not pursue an answer. More likely she was too distracted by her own. She tilted her head up and let out a long breath.

"What...does it involve? That...thing you're going to do to me?"

To her? Clearly she did not get it.

"I ain't doing nothing to you, babe. We'd just walk through your head, building some pathways. It's just like any other kind of training."

She took a long hard breath, nodding as she let it out slowly.

"Come on." Vinnie led her back to the couch. He settled into it, reclining lengthwise with his back propped against the armrest. He never let go of her hand. "Lay down with me, babe."

Charley complied, nestling into his arms, her stomach pressed against his. Her eyes were at once alert and fearful. Vinnie smoothed the hair on her head several times, then leaned in and placed a kiss on the top center of her skull.

This wasn't something he could explain very well, if she were to ask him about it. It would be better to get a hold of Trace for more complicated questions about biology. While Humans didn't have antenna, the majority of their cerebral functions seemed to work just the same as a Mouse's. When Throttle had shown her of their home on the first night they'd met her, his antenna touched her forehead. The frontal cortex, where logic and reasoning was developed. He had needed to tap into her higher reasoning to calm her down and explain the situation. Here, though, Vinnie had a different goal. In the same way everyone knew what anger felt like but not everyone knew how to explain where in the brain it originated or what the biochemical reactions of anger in the body were, he knew what this felt like but not the biology which caused it.

The very top of the head allowed what was essentially an access point. It was the easiest place to get into the mind of another, or allow them into yours. It was the place that always used when creating permanent links with others.

He angled his head down, his antenna brushing that most sensitive spot.

Her mind was mud. Sticky and heavy, thought lines and habits formed from deeply entrenched neural pathways clinging to him, whether to not he meant to touch them. Her fear permeated the link into him. He had to stop and breath for a moment, so she would not affect him so much. Slowly, he worked. He held her hand, metaphorically, showing Charley how to clear away the debris of her own mind. Together. they built the sharply defined roads and bridges that would bring ease of thought.

He softly disconnected himself from her.

Her hand was traveling up and down his chest. Charley's eyes punctured into him so hard he thought she was trying to dig out his soul. He listened to her slow heavy breaths and waited for her to speak.

Charley moved her hands upwards, settling on either side of his neck and jaw.

"What now am I supposed to feel?" she whispered.

"Uhh..." He rubbed her back, unsure if this would affect her the same as it did a Mouse. "What are you feeling?"

Her gaze move all over his face.

"I can sense you. Like Modo…" Charley closed her eyes and shook her head. "But it's different now. It's like..." Her eyes flickered back up to him. "I think...could you not tell the others about this?"

"You want me to keep this from them?" Vinnie had to admit, the idea of that made him uncomfortable.

"Just for a while. I really want to go slow, you know?" Charley closed her eyes, and pushed up from his chest. "I need to understand what this is. I need to explore...this, first."

"Yeah...okay." Vinnie let her lean on his chest. He kissed her temple.

"You don't like it." she spoke into his fur.

"I just... I don't really keep things from my bros. Never have before, anyways."

"...oh. I'm sorry. I...I really really need to go slow."

"Charley…"

"I'm not afraid anymore." she interrupted. "This isn't about fear. I only want to be strong enough to handle all of you at once. I'm not there yet."

Vinnie rested his hand on her cheek, tilting her head up.

"They won't hurt you."

"I know they wouldn't. Not on purpose."

"Charley, come on. We wouldn't even hurt you on accident. It's us, babe."

"Please? Just give me this. I don't think I'll be this way forever." she pleaded.

Vinnie hesitated. Charley used that moment to lift her head up and offer him a sudden kiss. That warmth in his chest returned. Part him knew she was trying to distract him. The greater part him, however, could not say no to her. Enveloping her in his arms, he opened his mouth to her. Without breaking contact, she sat up on his hips.

He was almost afraid to continue. There was no reason not to, he reasoned, given that here it was she who kissed him. There were no more misunderstandings here. If she wanted him, she could have him.

Intuitively, he moved to her neck, licking and kissing the soft skin he found there. Charley sighed appreciatively.

"I...I feel…" she struggled to speak. "...like I have some kind of harem. Honestly, I'm worried that makes me a little perverted."

"No!" His answer was a potent force. "There's nothing wrong with you." He gave her the same reassurance women had been giving him the last few days. "We chose this. We chose you." He attacked her lips again, holding nothing back. Charley just about wilted in his arms. "Tell me." he said between kisses. "Tell me what to do." His fingers ravelled up in her hair. "Tell me what you want."

She pushed his shoulders back just far enough to look into his eyes.

"I want you to show me what you've been holding back."

The moment came to a crashing halt. There was no way he could do that. Not yet. Even he had enough self restraint to to realize that.

"...babe."

"Back on Mars," Her soft gaze was tinted with hidden reluctance. He suspected that just now she'd forgotten how Martian empathy worked. "I knew you were holding back. I get it now. You were a little afraid, right?"

Women and their intuition, he thought. They always had a way of catching him off guard.

"I only…" he looked away. "I just want to be respectful. I ain't never been much good at following the rules, but…" It hit him suddenly how much he'd touched her today. At no point had she told him to stop. Still, this realization sent a short wave of panic through him, as he wondered if he was pushing for more than he deserved. "...I want to be good enough for you."

Vinnie could not possibly understand why, but Charley just about deflated at that confession. Her hands stilled. Her mournful eyes peered up from her lowered head.

"I wish I knew how to communicate this to you. I going through something very similar, Vinnie. I don't want to be something you all regret." She let out a hard breath. "There are so many ways I can't ever be what's normal for you guys. There are so many ways I'm going to fall short."

"Awe, babe…" Vinnie tucked an unruly strand of hair behind her ear. "There's nothing wrong with you. You're not that ba…" He couldn't finish the sentence. It was Carbine's words. Said to him in a moment of intimate sadness. Just like here. Just like Charley. She was nervous and vulnerable, confessing to weaknesses he knew she barely had.

Was that how Carbine saw him? How much of other people could Carbine truly see? She wasn't perfect, but he had just realized Carbine had an understanding of others he'd never completely appreciated.

"...Charlene…" He leaned his forehead against hers. "I wish I could show you. I know you're not ready for that, but you don't know and I really just want to show you."

"Vinnie…"

"This is what we do. This is how Cave Mice don't hold back."

Her eyes searched his face, but she said nothing. Slowly, she stood, holding out her hand for him to take. He did. Of course he did. How could he do anything else? As she led him up the stairs, Vinnie consigned himself to the disappointment of a surface level relationship. It seemed she would allow only this. He could be with his woman, but not truly inside her. Charley pulled him into her room. He moved with a numbness that he feared mirrored their future. A numbness of the mind. Just like how every Human on Earth lived.

She bid him to sit on the bed, and again Charley straddled his lap. He splayed his hands on her lower back. Vinnie resolved to act in whatever way she required of him. After all, he had been accepted by a woman. What right did he have to complain?

"...okay."

His ears perked up at her whisper of a word. Charley closed her eyes.

"Okay." she repeated more strongly. "But, can we keep this between you and me?"

He disliked the idea of not sharing himself with his bros. Though, he understood her need to move slowly. Trace and the old mama did things similarly with him back when he was a kid. Patience was never a strength for him. However, if Charley could find a way to open up to him, then he could find a way to close himself off for her. Vinnie felt his stomach turn, in both fear and excitement.

"Lay down next to me." he asked. She slid to his side, scooting up the bed. They each relaxed onto their sides, facing each other. Vinnie leaned in, placing a kiss on the bridge of her nose before tilting his head forward and closing his eyes. His antenna touched her hairline.

Her thoughts were...well, complicated, to put it lightly. She was resistant, rigid. Being inside her felt like the crunching of frozen water puddles under his feet. It was delicate, but not dangerous. And still so easily damaged. As slowly as he knew how, Vinnie released his fears, all that he'd been hiding from her over the last few days. He showed her how scared he was when they had found her, running from the Sand Raiders. How angry and frustrated he'd been after he'd returned to their abandoned camp. He let her see how forgetful and distracted, how drawn to her he'd been when he saw her back in that hallway on Mars. He released the memory of how afraid he'd been when they were together on that hard round bed. Vinnie let her see all his weaknesses.

Gently, as gentle as the arching curves of the wind-swept dunes, Vinnie closed the connection. He hesitated opening his eyes, unsure of what he would find. He could hear Charley breathing heavily.

"...I didn't know." Her words were more breath than voice. "I had no idea you felt like that, Vinnie."

"I..." his voice shook. "I'm not always very strong."

Charley raised a hand to his face. Her fingers traced the edge of his mask.

"I don't know all the things you've been though." She ran her hand over his head, caressing the fur behind his antenna. "But I don't think that's true. I get that there's only so much a civilian like me can really understand about how you've lived your life, and I didn't grow up in a warzone. But what I do get…" She focused on him hard. Vinnie could feel her certainty as clearly as he could feel his own thoughts. "You could not still be here, still fighting the Plutarchians after all these years, if you weren't strong." His heart warmed at the kind smile that crept over face. "From the moment you met me you've been trying to protect me. Sometimes I may have been resentful about all that, but pleaseunderstand...I trust you. I trust that you are strong enough. I trust that you will always do everything you can, and I trust that you will win."

Vinnie could not vocalize what he felt. He did not know how to articulate how he'd failed at protecting Harley. He could not tell her that he was afraid of failing to protect her as well. Instead, he felt his breathing become heavy. He clenched the muscles in his arms and shoulders. As he squeezed his eyes shut, his face became damp and itchy. Charley continued to stroke his fur, silently waiting for him to finish. When his shaking stilled, Charley pushed herself up. She sat astride his stomach, hovered over him, and leaned down to kiss his eyes. His hands found her waist.

It was not long before wandering hands found their way under each other's clothes, and less time after that before they had discarded them entirely. Vinnie held her in his arms as she rocked over his hips. He not could help but stare up at her, the image of a refulgent Goddess, repeating Her prayer over in his head in every language he knew. She trusted him. He knew now that his fears were irrelevant. There was no choice but to perform his duty and be better. He would embody the strength of the warrior god as he'd never done before.

They did not speak much afterwards. He held her from behind as they lay on their sides. Vinnie was wide awake as he dreaded the separation required of him next. Charley twisted in his arms and buried her face in his shoulder.

"Are you going to leave soon?"

"Do you want me to stay?" he shyly asked.

Charley looked up at him and ran a hand over his mask.

"I just want us to be comfortable with each other. If that means you have to go, then you should go. That still isn't something I completely get, but I can see that it's important to you guys. So I'm going to give you this space and respect what's normal for you."

It was easily one of the most difficult things he'd ever done to untangle himself from her and rise from the bed. He managed to do so without looking back, afraid that even the sight of her would cause him to lose his resolve. Charley was right. The normal thing to do was leave.

After pulling on his pants, Vinnie remembered that his boots and bandoleers were downstairs. Just as he turned to leave, Charley came up behind him. She was still completely naked. She put her hands on his face.

"You're so loud all the time. I never understood why. But I get it now, Vinnie. I can see you. Just remember...you're safe with me too."

Vinnie wasn't sure if he could take anymore. He didn't want to be confronted with anymore of his fears. Tangling his fingers in hers, Vinnie pulled her hands from his face and kissed her forehead. He left without a word.

Going home wasn't an option. He drove hard throughout the night. His hands ached from how tightly he held the grips of his handlebars. Too many emotions he'd kept suppressed for too many years were loudly proclaiming their presence. There was no more running he could do. This was the price, he reasoned, for the gifts the Goddess had been granting him. She did not make concessions without something in return.

It wasn't until after the sun had risen, after he was certain his bros had already left, that returned to the scoreboard. Kicking off his boots, he collapsed into his hammock, and did not wake for the rest of the day.

---

A few days later, Throttle returned from the garage, emotionless as ever. Vinnie didn't know what do about that. He'd told Modo how much Throttle's behavior bothered him, but Modo was hardly helpful. As he'd been doing, Modo spared barely a thought for Throttle actions, saying only that their bro would come to them when he was ready.

So he waited. Vinnie hated waiting.

He waited over days of patrols so actionless that he was tempted to break into Limburger Tower on his own and start a fight. He waited through the vague warmth of Modo's own mindstream as it spread out to both him and Throttle. He waited through the days they spent at the garage, assisting Charley at her work, breaking down engines and helping her put them back together. He waited as she offered him little more than a shy smile, day after day.

Vinnie waited. He waited until he found himself again alone with Charley. She was more open now, he observed. Less resistant to being close to him. They squished side-by-side on her couch. His bandoleers again discarded at her request, and his arm was around her shoulders while they watched their show. Some dull rom-com he wasn't really invested in. He drifted to the memory of two days prior, when he and Throttle had woken to find Modo still gone. Not that it was much different than what he had done. But the difference here was that Modo, historically, had always been extremely cautious when it came to Charley. And sure enough, when they got to the garage there he was, sipping on coffee and looking more than a little pleased with himself.

He was happy for his bro. After all, this was the way things were supposed to work out.

Charly twisted in arm, looking up at him.

"You're not really into this, are you?"

"Eh." he shrugged. "Just got some stuff on my mind is all."

"Oh. Well, all right then." She leaned forward towards the coffee table and picked up the remote. The tv flickerd off. "Tell me what's going on."

"You don't gotta...I mean...you don't have to turned off you your show."

She waved a dismissive hand.

"Wasn't that good anyway." Charley snuggled into his side, peering up at him. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing, really." His arm tightened around her ribcage. "Just thinking about us. I mean all of us. I uh…" he lifted his other arm to scratch the back of his neck. "You know Throttle hasn't really been talking to us."

Charley gazed downward.

"Yeah. I think he really needs to be left alone right now."

That got his attention.

"You know what's going on with him?"

"I…" She took a slow deep breath. "I can't exactly say that I do. But he's not...comfortable...right now. I can see that much at least. I'm not really pushing it with him. He comes over, we talk, and that's about it."

"What do you talk about?"

She shrugged.

"Nothing interesting. I'm just trying to let him go at his own pace, you know?"

Vinnie nodded.

"Yeah. That's what Modo says too. What you said last week...about me being safe with you."

She gazed up at him with eyes full of promise, full of the determination to conquer all past hesitations. A slight stirring in the periphery of his consciousness momentarily distracted him. A line of power that could only come from a woman. Charley was, he was certain, no longer afraid.

"Yeah?" came the quiet response.

"It's...it's not something I'm supposed to think about. We're all just, you know...supposed to tough. Be a man. That what they tell little boys, even here on Earth." He gave a hard scoff. "I will. I always will. You don't gotta worry about all that, and I've told you that. But when I come home...when I come home to you, I'm gonna keep letting my guard down." Vinnie squeezed his grip around her waist. "Not that it was that hard." he chucked. "I just want you to know…" Vinnie was unsure if the sensation in his chest more closely resembled thrill or fear. His voice lowered. "...that I do feel safe with you."

Charley did not respond in words. She considered him for a single short minute, before snuggling into his side. Awash in her ambient contentment, Vinnie sunk into the rare moment where he felt no need to move or commit any action. The simple stillness between them was enough.

Like most things in life, however, the moment didn't last long. He was broken out of it by the quiet, yet rough, intake of breath she took. It was followed by her tilting her head up, spying up at him nervously.

"What?" he asked. "I say something wrong?"

"...no. Nevermind." She tried to tuck her head back into his shoulder. "It's nothing."

"Hey babe, don't be like that." Vinnie use the tip of his tail to affectionately brush the hair out of her eyes. "I know you got some distractions working around in there. Go ahead and ask me anything."

She let out a quiet groan.

"Okay. Just..." Her foot tapped nervously on the edge of the couch cushion. "So...is anything likely to happen...at the same time?"

He must have given her a look of complete confusion. Charley averted her gaze, touching her cheekbone to her slightly hunched shoulder.

"Same time as what?"

"You know..." Her face flushed a deep rose color. It was the hue her skin often took on when she was

angry with them. He wondered if he had said something to upset her. "...you guys together...as the same time with me."

He couldn't help it. He tried not to laugh, but out it came. Long loud bellows of laughter spewing out of him, while Charley sat there, clearly seething in anger.

"Why is that funny? Look, I honestly don't know, okay?"

Wiping the tears from his eyes, he tried to speak.

"Sorry. I just really didn't expect a question like that!"

She let out a small huff, pursing her lips.

"Hey, babe. Don't be like that. I just meant..." He scratched the back of his head. "What if someone from Mars asked you if Humans do that? It'd be a little weird, right?"

"But sometimes we do." She looked away. "I mean...some people do that, but not everyone."

"Have you?"

She leered at him. "No."

Vinnie chucked.

"Well then, there's your answer, babe. Look, it probably happens, but not normally. Let's just say that orgies are just as kinky on Mars as they are Earth. Besides," He flashed her a bright grin. "I ain't into guys, doll-face."

She looked confused.

"Back home, the general assumption is that you'd have to be, to do what you're saying. I love my bros, but not that much."

If it were possible, her face flushed even more red. Part of him was relieved that they didn't have a strong connection with her yet. He was not particularly interested in seeing what kinds of mental images she might be having right then.

"...oh, well. Alright. I'm… fine," Watching Charley struggle with her words inspired yet more giggles from him. "...with only you right now. I don't...well, I don't think I'm capable of thinking about too much about that past this moment."

"Hey, works for me babe." Vinnie leaned into her neck, nuzzling the warm skin. "You're all I need too."

He felt the skin of her jaw stretch and go taunt above his nose. Charley's silent smile was more than enough encouragement. Nipping just above her collar bone, Vinnie tightened his arm around her ribcage, pulling Charley into his lap.

"Whaddaya say, boss lady? Care to have your dirty way with me again?"

She giggled, twisting around in his arms and planting a kiss on the flat space between his nose and his upper lip. Charley stood, holding his hand, and led him up to her room.

Upon entering, Vinnie touched her everywhere she would allow. His palms slipped passed her shirt to grasp at the smooth waist underneath. He carefully traveled up the path of her spine with his fingertips. In a quick motion, Charley bent forward and he was able pull of her clothes, bra and all, in one short tug. Her hair was slightly mussed from the motion. He ran his fingers through it, thinking how cute she looked. Vinnie lifted her, his fingertips pressing into her round bottom, and lay down on her bed. He kissed her neck and cleavage, before making motions to roll her on top of him.

"No. Not like that." Charley peered up at him . "I you want here, like this." Her jean-clad legs enwrapped his hips. As a matter of precept, he hesitated. "Please, Vinnie...I'm ready for this kind of trust."

As he beheld this avid creature in his arms, Vinnie became subtlety aware of an emotion outside his own consciousness. An expectant enthrallment, awash with a familiar womanly fearlessness.

He must have watched her a moment too long. Charley held a hand to the maskless side of his face.

"Please." she asked again. "Let me trust you."

Hesitating longer than he'd like to admit, Vinnie did as his woman asked. Thin warm wrists found their way under his fingers. He lifted them above her head, weighing down her arms onto the mattress.

Vinnie kissed her neck, her breasts, her navel. With the warrior god in his thoughts and the Goddess' prayer on his lips, he boldly explored her skin.

Charley lay almost completely still. Vinnie did his best to not have too many feelings about that. She allowed him to enjoy her body as he saw fit. Though she did, at one point, push back. Wriggling out of grasp, she pushed him back to kneel upright as she undid his pants. Charley leaned in and kissed his abdomen, her fingers trailing down the backs of his thighs while she slid the pants downwards. His tail, beginning at the base, snaked a vertical arching curve as he tugged it out of the hole cut into his jeans.

She plopped back down, rapidly discarding her own pants. Her legs wrapped around his torso, pulling him down. Vinnie buried his nose in her neck. Charley smelt of metal and Armor All. She slid a pillow under her pelvis. Reaching between his thighs, she took a firm hold, rubbing the tip of him in circles at her opening. A quick tilt of her hips and he was, blissfully, insider her.

He had to give Charley credit. From this angle, the act was certainly easier. Freer range of motion allowed him to move more quickly of his own accord, and in this moment there was nothing else on his mind.

Vinnie could heard her sobs and grunts as he alternatively sped up and slowed down. The call of her warmth around him led him in aimless directions. Part of him could almost feel pinpricks of pain on his shoulders, back, and arms. Even small trimmed Human nails could have a bit of bite to them. Her hands held him tightly, wherever they moved. His tail wound around her thigh, equally as tightly, pulling her leg up against his chest.

His control got away from him far too easily. Before he could register it, the most extreme relief came over him, until he had nothing left to give. Charley tightened her leg around his middle when he tried to pull away.

"Don't. Not yet."

Vinnie didn't ask questions. He bore the weight of his torso on tired arms. His nose was tucked into her neck, the uniquely Human scent there comforting him until he found his strength again.

It felt good, how she responded. The wanting of more. The satisfaction of what he had to offer. He remembered the fungus, its white tendrils jutting out like stumpy fingers as he had lain it on his family's alter. As a child, it was all he could give. Years later, he swore he would find a way to give his Goddess an offering worthy of her.

Be the best. I have to be the strongest, the fastest. I have to be. For you, Charley.

He hadn't said it out loud. He knew he hadn't. Even so, as he thought those words, she looked into his eyes and ran her hand up the back of his neck. A few moments later he was rocking into her, seeking only her approval.

Hours later, deep into the night, Charley was lying on his shoulder. Both of them were still panting. Vinnie was laying small kisses on her forehead, making his way down her cheeks when he tasted the salty liquid.

"Babe, what's wrong?" he heard the panic creeping into his voice. "Are you...I didn't hurt…"

"No, no. it's nothing like that." she interrupted, smiling. "It just, that was really intense. Like...like being on a rollercoaster. My eyes are just watering."

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Charley held up a hand to his face, smoothing back the short fur.

"I don't want you to leave."

He didn't want to either.

"Will you stay?"

Silently, Vinnie nodded. After all, Modo had. He was setting the pace here, and Vinnie would happily follow his lead.

Sleep did not come easy, and much later he realized that at no point had he taken off his bandana or his gloves. He wondered if he was doomed to be one of those guys who insisted on always keeping one ridiculous item of clothing throughout the whole encounter. Usually in the stories he heard it was their boots. Or a leather kutte.

He didn't have those specific kinks. Or any, that he was aware of. Vinnie was grateful for the simple blessing of her presence.

---

He barely slept the next night. Sharp memories had feedback-looped their way through his mind, and he could not get the scent of her hair out of his head. As he laid there in his bed, his mind wandered to the softness of her skin, the brilliant green of her eyes. Just a couple of days. He could wait a couple of days.

We he was with her, he was reduced to a creature of pure instinct. He had had no thought for honor, responsibility, or potential consequence. What little brain power he had available was devoted to their mutual pleasure. He knew it was self-indulgent to think of himself at all while he had a woman in his arms, but Charley kept encouraging this of him. With her tempting hands, her calming voice. He began to not care what she thought of such things, but she would always be his Goddess.

On his darkest days he had wondered if his people's' deities were any more real than the ancient forgotten gods of the humans. However, even if that were the case, she would never be anything less than sacred to him.

---

Weeks passed. there was little to no activity from the Plutarchians. They had gotten messages from Mars with similar statements. Mars had been their foothold, being the most technologically advanced planet in this solar system. The breakdown of Plutarch's war effort there had begun to affect other regions.

Over all, though, in the years they had been on Earth there had been few occasions when they had had the luxury of just relaxing. Learning about the real Earth, instead of through the filter of their media.

They took more trips to the lake. They spent a day at Kettle Moraine State Forest. Packing up a lunch and blankets in their saddlebags and spending the day woods, enjoying the soft power of untouched nature.

He spied Charley and Throttle holding hands as they walked down the trails. The knot of their fingers swung loosely in step with their gait. He and Modo were walking a short distance behind them. Modo was distracted by the alien bird calls he heard through the trees, his ears quirking back and forwards. Vinnie elbowed him, and nodded to the direction of the other two.

"Awe." his bro quietly cooed. "Maybe that means they finally getting together."

Vinnie, unsure, didn't answer.

---

The two of them were in the shop. Charley busied herself with her latest job. Vinnie sat on the floor, watching her. It'd been a slow week and it was late in the day. The guys had left around lunch time, leaving Vinnie behind to keep her company. She'd been tinkering with an alternator for the last few minutes, muttering something about belts.

"It's the wrong size." She stood back, glaring at the engine. "I don't have the right one here." Charlie glance at the wall hanging clock. "The supply store's closed now. I'll have to go get one in the morning."

"I'll get it for you." he grinned at her.

Charlie looked up.

"You don't have to. I ran the business for years without you guys."

"And now you have help. Let me, babe. I like feeling useful."

She let out a breath that could be described as nothing less than emotive. Charley hung her head for a moment, her eyes peeking up at him sideways.

"Fine."

She moved to the corner of the garage, where a squat mini fridge sat, half hidden between two tool chests. Opening it, pulled out two bottles of beer. She handed him both bottles and he opened them automatically. Charley plopped down on the floor next to him, lifting his arm and placing it around her shoulders.

"Don't take it personally. I spent so many years on my own, and now I'm not sure if I'll ever be totally comfortable asking for help."

Vinnie stitched up his brows in confusion.

"Even if it's from us? We're your family now."

"It's a reflex more than anything else. Like I said, it's not you." Charley snuggled into the crook of his torso. She spoke into his fur. "What do the words mean?"

"Huh?"

"That thing you and Modo say in Martian...when you're with me."

"Oh…" Vinnie realized she meant the prayer to Goddess. He searched for the correct meaning. "It's...polite, really. Like that thing you people say when you sneeze."

She scanned him curiously.

"You mean 'bless you'?"

"Yeah. I mean...I get it, but it's kind of superstitious, right? It's just air. It doesn't mean anything. But a long time ago it did. People didn't know if they were going to die if they got sick." He shrugged. "I'm kinda superstitious. All those old ideas...it matters to me you, you know?"

She tucked in closer to him.

"Because it makes you feel safe?"

He nodded, his chin resting on her head.

"For a long time, it was all I had. My family was gone. My home was gone." He squeezed his eyes closed. "And later, when I found all that again...it helped me find a place." He opened his eyes. "Ask the old mama and she'll tell you I'm still kinda messed up."

Charley scoffed.

"I've met worse." She took a sip of her beer.

"Yeah?"

Charley nodded as she swallowed.

"Been around bikers my whole life. Some of them are…shall we say...less than respectful. At least here on Earth." She looked down and shook her head. "You're kind of a pain sometimes, but you're not so terrible. Not really." Charley set her beer down between her feet and rested her head on his upper arm. "Wouldn't be here if I thought so, anyway. 'Sides," she smirked. "you're not so bad in bed."

He wanted to huff at that, defaulting to a defensive response. Instead he caught himself and brushed off her words.

"Of course I am! What else you expect, sweetheart?"

He noticed her nearly imperceptible twitch.

"Have you always been so self conscious around me?" Charley focused on her beer.

He didn't respond.

"You don't have to be." She gave a decidedly unfeminine shrug. "I try not to be like that around you."

On Earth he'd seen many woman ducking their heads down shyly, nervously laughing, or holding back their opinions to keep everyone else happy. It never ceased to shock him. Maybe it was why he fell so mentally in step with Charley. None of that foolishness was her style.

"It's better if you're not, babe. Ain't natural."

"But it's okay if you are?" she accused.

His dominant hand, resting on his knee, flopped in dismissive denile.

"I'm not like you."

Charley visibly deflated.

"Because I'm a woman?"

"Well...yeah."

"I hate that answer." She took a long drink from her bottle. "I get the feeling this is going to become an old argument very quickly."

Vinnie truly did not know what response to give. Charley took a heavy draught from her bottle, unfocused eyes gazing hard at nothing. Her eyes squinted as she spoke.

"You know what chauvinist means?"

He heard her call them that a few times, understanding it was some variety of insult. It was the kind English word that he'd only heard on specific occasions, not really hearing a general use outside of anger. He'd never had enough context to decipher its exact meaning.

"Means you're mad at us, right?" he ventured.

Charley shook her head, not looking at him.

"A long time ago, like two hundred years ago, there was this guy named Nicolas Chauvin. He was a soldier. He fought for a general named Napoleon. And Napoleon, well, his whole deal was that he wanted to take over everything, or at least as much of Earth as he could get his hands on. He wanted to have this great untouchable, undefeatable empire. And Chauvin was so taken in by everything Napoleon spouted, that nothing could change his mind. People saw eventually that Napoleon was kinda crazy. The guy once bragged that he spent thirty thousand lives a month trying to conquer the world! His own people removed him from power. Twice!" She held up her middle and index fingers. "But Chauvin wouldn't stop trying to convince his whole country that Napoleon was the only leader France would ever need. Even after he was so wounded in battle, and wasn't able to work for the rest of his life, he wouldn't stop shouting from the rooftops about the great Napoleon. He got a little money from the military, but it wasn't enough to live off of. Chauvin was nearly out on the street, and still, he was obsessed with Napoleon. Everyone around him knew that kind of fixation was ridiculous. So, afterwards, any time any went around touting the superiority of one person or group or idea, when all evidence pointed to the opposite, they were called a chauvinist."

He watched her jaw set tightly, her eyes glancing downward, as she breathed in deeply.

"On Earth," she continued. "There's a lot of chauvinists. We Humans are kind of dumb sometimes. We're better than we used to be, but we can be pretty stupid. For a while...there was a time when I called you guys male chauvinists. Some people are like that around here. And I want you to know that I'm sorry. You're all a lot of things, but you're not that."

Vinnie wasn't sure how to quantify the warmth pooling in his abdomen. He wasn't even certain if he could call what he felt a positive sensation. It was closer to the dred one felt before speaking to large crowd. Part defensive walls and part burst of energy, all built up to fuel the push to get past the moment. His words were more reflex than thought.

"...what are we to you?"

The cold concrete floor was more uncomfortable than he let on. That was the reason why the fur on his arms and neck puffed up. It had nothing to do with Charley's long unfocused and unblinking gaze

She set her bottle down on the floor, and wrapped her arms around his bicep, tucking her head into his upper arm.

"When I was a kid," her voice was muffled by his fur. "...all the adults around me used to say things like how they never expected life to turn out how it did for them. Maybe they had a kid they never planned on. Or got a job in a field they never ever considered working in. Sometimes they meant the person they ended up with."

Charly took a long heavy breath. The warmth of it tickled the skin under his fur on his arm.

"Sometimes Vinnie...I think I feel like Throttle. Just...uncomfortable, you know? But only sometimes. And every few days, I find myself feeling that way less and less."

She tilted her head upward, and he was staring into painfully green eyes. A green so bright it could be nothing less than alien.

"You guys are what I never expected. And whatever happens, it's all going to alright." She smiled up at him mischievously. "Besides, it's not like I have anything to complain about. You guys keep me more than satisfied.

A prideful grin spread across his face.

"Yeah? Better than anything a Human could give you? I tried to tell ya, babe."

Charley giggled.

"Well, I mean...sex-wise, it's all pretty much the same. Aside from these crazy all-nighters you guys pull. There's really nothing different in the mechanics."

An unexpected discomfort seized through him.

"Do we...uh, look strange? Compared to a Human?" Vinnie hoped he didn't sound as self conscious as he felt.

Charley shrugged.

"Not enough that it makes a difference. You're kind of...bigger. More round, really. Just at the tip. Honestly though, all dicks look strange."

He scoffed nervously.

Charlie answered indignantly.

"Ask any woman, outside of the medical field, and they'll all tell you the same thing, Dicks are just weird."

"Hnm." He wondered if Cave Mice women felt the same, or if that was just a Human opinion. Vinnie stood abruptly, pulling Charley up with him.

"You want to go for a ride?"

"To where?"

"Just some fresh air. You don't got nothing left to do tonight, right? Besides, you work too hard, babe. Let's get out of the garage for a few hours."

She paused a moment, nodding slowly.

"Let me put on a coat.

She stood slowly, stretching out her legs, and threw on a worn leather jacket that was draping over a workbench. Charley grabbed her helmet from where it hung on the wall. Vinnie followed her to his bike.

As they drove off, Charley asked a question.

"You do this a lot, don't you? When there's too much going through that head of yours."

"Doesn't everyone? A little wind in my face calms me down, babe."

"I'm not saying it's strange or anything. I just recognize the pattern."

Vinnie felt the surface of her helmet rest against his shoulder blade.

"Yeah. I'll give you that. Modo's always been really calm, but sometimes even being connected to him isn't enough for me. Sometimes I just need to go be on my own for a little while. Anyway, it's usually either that or my bros get in my head force me to calm down."

"They do what?"

"Yeah." he laughed. "There are times when I really need it too."

"...what do you mean they force you?"

"Oh, you know. Just a little bit of yanking me into place. I can get a bit rowdy. There's only so much they can take.

"Do you mean to say they...like...psychically control you?"

"Awe, it's just support babe. It's a good thing. We all need a little help sometimes."

Charley was quiet. He squeezed the muscles in tail, wrapped around her waist.

"Babe?"

She squeezed his chest in answer.

The drove together silently to the park. He stopped near a stone bridge crossing a pond. She took off her helmet, leaning over the limestone guardrail.

"Are you really okay with them doing that to you?"

Vinnie took a long deep breath. Part of him knew this was going to be an issue. He wasn't sure if that part came from him or one of bros.

"Look..." He came up beside her, elbows down on the stone overlook. "It's nothing bad. And it's not like they're bullying me. I trust em', babe. How could I not? They're my bros."

Her eyes were hard as the wind blew bits of her hair in her face.

"Is that something any of you would ever do to me?"

He scoffed hard.

"I don't think so, Charley. That's not the kind of thing you do to a lady. It ain't polite. Besides, it's usually the other way around."

"I'm supposed to do that to you? Vinnie...I don't think I can."

He shrugged, despite her rising emotions.

"Then don't. If that's not how you want to roll, then do something else. It's all about respect, babe. My bros know me. They know when I'm at my weakest and they know how to get me on my feet the fastest. What we do...it works for us. It's fine if it doesn't work for you." He dropped an arm around her hip. "It's nothing to stress over, Charley. Besides, it wouldn't be right to ask you to change."

She was silent for a long time after that. Vinnie felt her lean into his side, resting more on him than the guardrail. The sun was setting over the trees. Its low light cast long shadows on the pavement.

"I'm starting to wonder if I'm ever going to get over all my hang ups.

"Seems to me everything would be fine if you could relax a bit more." He watched the ducks lazily swimming past them, making ripples in the water with each paddle of their feet. "I had to learn that too. I thought it was a lot easier to just be defensive. It wasn't. Not after I knew better. Family keeps you safe babe. Not just from all the scary stuff out to get you, but also from your own shitty habits."

Her face tilted towards him.

"Good to know you at least try to be self-aware."

"Hey! I know sometimes I leap before I look, but I'm not dumb."

She smiled, leaning her head on his chest.

"How did you get a name like 'Vincent' anyway?"

Changing the subject, huh? Whatever helped her relax, he thought. He shrugged.

"What do you think, babe? It comes from Earth."

"Oh. I thought..I guess I just thought we were all just butchering some Martian word."

"Nah." He smiled proudly. "It means 'winner'.

"Is it normal to give kids Earth names on Mars?"

He chuckled.

"Not really. Just another thing that make me stand out. I don't know if you noticed, but white's kind of a bright color. I'm easy to pick out in a crowd."

"That why you're so loud all the time? People are going to see you no matter what?"

"Yeah! I like that answer. May as well be loud since people are going to see me anyway." Vinnie stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. "My dad named me. He named all of us kids. That wasn't normally the tradition, but I don't think my mom cared about all that old fashion stuff. We didn't have much. I think people in places like that sometimes do a lot of strange things to cope. My brothers were all given names from different languages. None of them were from any language you could call local. They meant things like 'to eat a lot' or ' to be dark colored'. All the things that are supposed to give you a good life."

"And you're the 'winner'?"

"You ever seen me lose? I'm the best, babe!"

"Oh, I don't know. I seem to remember you skidding on your ass across the floor the night we met."

"...yeah...well, I had my bros there to back me up. We got you out safe.

She laughed a little.

"Can't argue with results, I guess."

Vinnie laughed right along with her.

"Throttle translates his name," he continued. "...and Modo tried but there's really no way to say it without a whole paragraph, so he gave up and we just use the Martian word."

"Yeah?" She turned. Vinnie dropped his tail away and his hands settled on her hips. The shield on his helmet was still closed. He loved being this close to her, and barely caught himself pulling her closer. A public park was not the best place to stretch out his ears or kiss Charley. Both would feel amazing right now. She leaned her head back on his shoulder.

"Yeah. Most people on Mars just translate their names normally."

"Hm."

They stayed at the park for another hour. Small talk filled the spaces between his thoughts. And what thoughts they were. No jagged edges, no forgetful lines of thought. He said something and could finish it through. He released tension in his neck he hadn't realized was there. He stood close enough to Charley he was torso to torso with her the whole time. She felt safe in his arms, and he felt anchored in hers.

When they got back home, the moment his helmet was off Charley was all over him. Vinnie heard his bike beeping at him in low amused tones. Well, that didn't take long, it seemed to say. Vinnie agreed, or would have if he hadn't had his attention pulled elsewhere. Her small fingers, cold from the drive with no gloves on, slid her hands under the waist of his jeans and gripped his buttocks.

In the bedroom Charley looped her index fingers around his belt loops and pulled him down, and before he had a chance to consider any other option Vinnie had comfortably settled above her, his elbows on either side of her face.

"Stay like this," she begged.

It hadn't occurred to him to do anything else.

Hours later they laid together on their sides. His nose was tucked into her neck. Vinnie could scent the oil of her skin on his fur. A chemical excitement, stirring him even now when he no energy left to offer her.

A memory of Stoker's voice flashed in his mind.

Be a man and get it done. We don't got time for you to wait around thinking about it.

Vinnie sat up abruptly, the sheets bunching around his hips. He clenched his fists, pressing the knuckles against his forehead. Sending a short prayer to Deimos for courage, he pressed on.

"Babe. I gotta tell you something."

"Hm?" Charley rubbed her eyes with back of her hand. "I was just about to fall asleep."

His heart was racing. Vinnie had to speak before his lost his courage.

"...I'm sorry. I just...I need to tell you.."

She sat up, rubbing his back.

"Vinny, what's going on?"

His stomach twisted. The feminine prescience of stability and softness hovered at the edge of his consciousness. It gave him just enough courage to speak.

"Before I met you I never...I mean…" He took a deep breath. "I'm not exactly innocent, but...you're the first girl I've been with."

He left the words hanging in the air, unsure of how Humans viewed such things.

"I thought..." she hesitated. "You said you weren't into guys."

He closed his eyes and found himself unable to sit still. Vinnie's hands were hanging in between his legs. He thoughtlessly rubbed his forearms against his thighs.

"Wasn't always about what I wanted."

For a moment, he convinced himself he didn't care what she thought. He didn't want her pity or concern. He just thought she had a right to know. That was why he kept his face pointed away from her. He most certainly wasn't clenching his hands or waiting fearfully for her to speak.

He felt her small cool hands on the sides of his face, turning him towards her.

"Vinnie..." she cooed. Her tone inflected both sadness and warmth. He felt awkward, lost with no reason to be.

He cleared his throat.

"That just life, Charley-girl." He wrapped his hands around her wrists, softly pulling them down. "It happens sometimes. Nothing really to be done about it. It's better to move on."

"But...oh God, Vinnie! What kind of horrors have you been through?"

He didn't answer. What was there to say? He hadn't been that vulnerable in years and would never be so again. In a Mouse clan no one had to worry about being left behind. It was only when he was alone that the bad things had happened. Family offered security.

"I can't change the past. When you're a man, there's only one rule you gotta live by. You protect the family. It doesn't matter what it costs. It doesn't matter how much it hurts." He turned to her and gripped her shoulders. "I promise Charley, whatever else happens I will always protect you."

Her eyes burned with an emotion he didn't understand. She wrapped her arms around him.

"I'm not going to argue with you right now. But you should know I don't accept that."

Reflexively, his hands rose to her cheeks.

"I don't think I can just stop. I don't work that way, babe."

Charley nodded, covering his hand with one of her own.

"I get it. We'll figure it all out together. We all just got to listen to each other, right?"

He nodded. They lay back down, each holding the other closely.

He rose early the next day, long before Charley woke up. After stopping by the autoparts shop, he drove back to the garage and left the belt, still wrapped in its packaging, on the kitchen table.

---

She liked having sex in the shower.

The first time Charley made the suggestion, he thought she was joking. But twenty minutes later the two of them crowded into the ill-fitting stall, water dripping down his fur and her skin. He felt a bit guilty, enjoying such decadence. A woman bent over in front of him, while they were showered with life-giving water. This was similar to a scene from his peoples' mythos. The image of it had been carved into the concrete walls at the Phobosian monastery. The Goddess and her warrior husband making love in the forest under the rain, bringing forth life to their world.

After he came, Vinnie held onto her, burying his face in her shoulder, nearly sobbing.

"Are you alright?"

Her voice was so distant, her words so foreign. He strained to remember to reply in English.

"...yeah. I just...I can't believe this is my life."

She twisted, facing him, and smoothed back the dripping fur on his face. Vinnie dropped his forehead on Charley's shoulder. He didn't have words for how at peace he felt.

---

"Throttle...what's going on with you?"

The three of them were at the scoreboard, enjoying a day of ESPN and more junk food than was strictly necessary. There'd been no action from the Plutarkians for weeks. Part of Vinnie hoped he and his bros weren't fallings out of practice in the meantime. Throttle usually keep them busy though a consistent regimen of training. When there was no one around, they take over the field below and play one of the many Earth sports they'd leaned over the years. Usually heavily modified for use with only three players. Or laser guns, as the need presented itself.

Today, they granted themselves a break. Charley had done a grocery run that moring, stocking them up with all the essentials. Beer, beef jerky, and every flavored potato chip imaginable. Except, of course, nacho. They settled into the old beat up couch for a day of hockey and college football.

Throttle had wordlessly opted to step outside during a commercial break, bringing along his bottle. For the short moment the door was open, he could be seen hunched over the rail, nursing at the drink. Vinnie glanced at Modo, who shrugged and keep crunching on chips.

He let out a heavy sigh, settling on a decision. The next moment, he was outside with Throttle. Vinnie leaned his back against the rail, propping his elbows up on its edge. Throttle gave him a cursory nod before taking a drink. The silence was suffocating. It didn't take long for Vinnie to ask that question. He couldn't suppress it any longer.

In response, Throttle shifted his shoulders back. Silvers of nervousness passed through their link. His bro exhaled deeply.

"There's...some things that have been going on for a while. None are you going to be happy with me about it." He hung his head down. "I ain't been the best leader."

"Awe, it can't be that bad. You can talk to us, bro."

Throttle looked up, surveying the empty field before him. The flood lights were on. Throttle didn't talk about it much, but Vinnie knew the overly bright artificial light hurt Throttle's eyes.

"Later. Let's just enjoy the day, you know? I'll tell you all everything. Just...later, okay?"

"Throttle…"

Squeezing his eyes shut, his bro let out a long heave. Throttle lifted his gaze heavenward, before giving him a sad, diminutive smile. Even now, this Mouse still sought to give him reassurance.

"You go on over to the garage tonight. And tomorrow…"

"Hey," Vinnie interrupted, placing a friendly hand on Throttle shoulder. "You take all the time you need, bro. We're here for you when you're ready."

Throttle nodded slowly, his eyes smoldering appreciation.

"You should get going soon. The lady's waiting on you."

Vinnie gave Throttle a friendly cuff on the shoulder.

"Yeah. I leave when the game's over."

Throttle slung and arm around his shoulder, and together they went back inside.

A few hours later, Vinnie picked up his helmet from the rack by the door. He turned back to his Liiashlau, a wry smirk spread across his face.

"Later, bros!" he called. "Don't wait up!"

He saw Modo toss out a mock salute.

---

"Vinnie!" She dropped the wrench and whacked him on the shoulder. "You scared me half to death!" Charley looked around the garage before her eyes again found him. "Where are the guys?"

Ignoring her, he lifted her up by her bottom, pressing her back against the wall.

"Do you have any idea how fucking in love you I am?" He leaned in and kissed her neck. Charley tilted her head back, moaning.

"I...I'm going to get grease on your fur."

As he held his woman in his arms, Vinnie realized he truly didn't care.