Hey guys! For a more angsty change of pace, go read Noroi's story, 'Don't Worry'. Very interesting with an unexpected twist and very well written.
Disclaimer: Dudes, two stories later and I still don't own the mice. Damn my luck.....
Throttle, Modo, Vincent, Charlene Davidson, Rimfire, Chef Andy Steinhaur, One-Eyed Jack Monterrey are all characters from the original show. Everyone else are my characters, along with any others that pop up. Thanks!
Chapter 12
Charley was very quiet as she helped organize Tsu's tools, absently rearranging them in the many toolboxes. The young man had been incredibly grateful that the Mice came to help him get everything back together and had sprung for a late dinner of chilli dogs, to the soldiers' joy. He was due back at the garage within the hour. There really wasn't much for them to do, though. Most of the structural damage to the roof and main doors was being taken care of within the next few days, so the bros helped with clean-up and repairs to the various clients' autos that were damaged in the crossfire.
Link, who'd drawn the short straw, was watching over Bic in the kitchen to keep him out of trouble. The dark-furred mouse had bragged that he had the easy job: little Bic was determined to prove him wrong. From the sounds coming from the kitchen, the three year old was off to a great start.
Throttle glanced back over at Charlene. It wasn't like her to be so quiet. He knew that she'd talked with Silva for a good fifteen minutes before they had left, and wondered if that was what was on her mind. But what could the lady have said to disturb Charley so badly? He put a damper on his curiosity with some effort. She would tell him in her own time. But he had to admit, those odd looks she was giving Modo and Rimfire were starting to bother him.
Charley's thoughts were whirling, unable to really focus on anything. Silva's offer to join their clan had come completely out of left field.
(Flashback)
"This is not something we offer lightly," she had said. "All of us had to agree to it."
"But…" the Terran had been nearly speechless at her words. She knew from Throttle just how precious being a part of a clan was. It was a bond between family that was strengthened by memories and trust, a telepathic bond that went beyond words. And Martians took their clan loyalties very seriously. "But Silva, why me?"
"Charlene, you've been nothing but loyal and caring to everyone of this clan for as long as we've known you. You have risked your life to help fight a war that you could have just walked away from"—
"Are you joking?! I couldn't turn my back on them when they needed me!"
"And that sort of attitude makes us love you more," the elder lady said affectionately. "You've always been there for them, supporting them any way you could. You've mended their wounds and mine, and fought bravely to help defend us against the Plutarkians. You have been there in the midst of all this chaos and darkness, helping and encouraging us to keep going no matter what." The grey mouse reached out and cupped the mechanic's cheek. "You may not be a Mouse, but you have the heart and soul of one. For that, for everything you've done, we love you, honey-child. And I do believe that you love us, too."
Charley felt her cheeks warm up in a blush at the unexpected praise. "Silva, I….I don't know what to say. I—I mean, what does it mean? Do I have to do something, pass some test?"
"Oh no, honey. We would touch our antennae to your face and share the memories with you, welcoming you into our minds. Modo said that you reacted very well to Throttle's telepathy. I'm hoping we'll be able to reach your mind as he did."
She frowned at that. "Reach my mind? Will you see my memories like I saw his?"
"It should be similar to that. Those of the strongest emotion, the most powerful memories that you have." Silva looked much older than her years for a moment. "So many memories that leave a strong enough impression are sad, or horrifying. This war has left us with much to remember, precious little of it good, so what you see in our minds can be frightening."
Charley gave her a rueful look. "Not all my memories are sunshine and roses either, Silva."
The mouse smiled in return. "No one's are. But we will understand if you decide not to do this."
"Can I think about it for a while?" The girl asked softly.
"By all means," Silva said in understanding, "it's a very big decision. Modo does want to talk to you later on as well. Honey-child," the lady mouse took the human's hands in her own, "I hope that you won't think I'm selfish, when all is said and done about this."
"Selfish?" Charley frowned in confusion. "Silva, I don't understand."
She smiled almost sadly at the girl. "That's what Modo wants to talk to you about. Find him later on tonight, alright honey?"
"Sure," Charley nodded, her mind already going a mile a minute.
(End Flashback)
She'd been preoccupied ever since. They want to make me part of their family. And they all had to agree to it. So Modo, Rimfire, and Auri all want me in. So is that like adoption? How would that work out? And what did Silva mean, 'selfish?' She shook her head. Well, just sitting here wondering won't get me any answers, so there's a mouse I need to talk to. She finished sorting the last tool box out and walked over to Modo. He almost looked like he had been waiting on her. "Modo, can we talk?"
The grey mouse exchanged looks with Rimfire before looking back to her. "Sure thing, Charley." They walked out the garage doors and around to the backyard for some privacy.
Vinnie cocked an eyebrow at them as they left. "Trouble in paradise, bro?" he asked Throttle.
"Not that I'm aware of," the tan mouse answered. He looked over to Rimfire. "Don't suppose you'd be willing to shed some light on this?"
The young mouse shook his head. "Can't, sorry. It's clan business."
"Clan business?" Thrash said in surprise. "It must be something serious, then."
"Its nothing—bad, really, just something we asked Miss Charley," Rimfire explained. "Uncle Modo's just talking it over with her, that's all. I'm pretty sure they'll be back soon."
*&*&*&*&
Modo sat down on the short grass of Tsu's backyard and leaned his back against the flat wood fence, gesturing Charley to do the same. She sat across from him, nervously tearing up a few blades of grass as she waited for him to speak. "What did Momma tell you?"
Charley quickly summed up what she'd heard. "But I didn't get what she meant by being selfish. Can you tell me?"
Modo glanced away for a second. "Has Throttle told you about the Great Clan Wars?"
She frowned at the off-topic subject. "Yeah, he did. A war between the large and small clans of Mars that spanned most of the planet."
Modo nodded. "No one can remember what started the very first Clan War, but everyone knows the reasons for the others. The memories of those first battles, the betrayals and lies, and all the people that were killed for no reason than out of wanting revenge. Those memories were as strong and clear to the people of the Second Clan War as they were to those of the First War."
"Because you pass down the strongest memories to your children," she said in sudden understanding.
"Exactly," he said, proud of her catching on so quickly. "But that's the main problem with Mice, and most of us are the first to admit it."
"Huh?"
"We hold a grudge," Modo answered. "We can remember the faces of those betrayers as clearly as I see you in front of me. We pass them down through our line for as long as we can."
"You can pass down memories over a thousand years old?" She asked in wonder.
"Sometime even further back," he replied. "We can even recognize the colorings and features in their line, or even those we suspect are their line. So the Clan Wars continued, for nearly a thousand years. It took a long time for anyone to even think of signing treaties to stop all the bloodshed, and even then it left the Mice divided into fourteen clan kingdoms that were always on the brink of war with each other.
"Finally, the Eighth King of Ferrari"—
"Wait, wait," she had to interrupt on that one. "Ferrari?"
"Yeah, you have no idea how hard some mice laughed when humans came out with a car line called that," he chuckled. "Anyway, the Eighth King of Ferrari united more than seven clan kingdoms into one. He's famous for forbidding fighting with other clans without knowing, for an absolute, irrefutable fact, that you were fighting your clan's enemy. But it was his son, the White King, who came up with the idea, and somehow managed, to make all those proud and noble clans stop using their clan names in public."
The mechanic thought for a second. "Davidson is my last name, or rather my 'clan' name. So, to follow the law, no matter where I went on Mars everyone could only call me Charley, even though they'd all know my clan name?"
"That's right," he said.
"And since those clans couldn't say their clan name, no one could prove who they were according to the law, so if they fought they would be automatically breaking the law," Charley smiled. "Clever king.
"" Many have thought so, myself included, Modo said. "Most schools teach that he was probably the greatest king of all time, a lot like your King Arthur. But I'm getting off the main discussion here, sorry Charley."
"No, I like hearing more about Martian history," she said. "But I am curious about how this all ties together with what Silva said."
"Well, here goes. You see, those laws are good and all, but that doesn't change that we still can remember our enemies. Time changes faces and body type, but we can still remember those memories and those names. And they don't get rid of your mind-sense. Your mind-sense is, well—you know how when you first meet people, and someone can just really rub your fur the wrong way? Or you just really like them, and you don't know why?"
"Yeah, I get that all the time," she said. "With almost everyone I meet. Actually, I got that feeling the strongest in my life when I first met you three."
"Really?" Modo said in complete surprise.
"Mm-hmm. Just this weird feeling, like I knew you from somewhere. You still scared the hell out of me when I first saw you, and I don't think anyone could blame me for that," she chuckled, "but afterwards, I knew to trust that feeling."
"Wow," the grey mouse said. "You never told us that."
She shrugged, "You never asked."
"I'll have to tell Momma about that," he said to himself. He shook his head to get it back on track. "Anyway, most of the time, that first impression is dead on. If its someone that you instantly dislike, chances are pretty good they're from an enemy clan. You can still work with them and even overcome that feeling to be—well, alright with them, not friends, but alright.
"And those that give you a good feeling are most likely your allies or even a lost relative down the line. People that don't give you any feeling are rare, but its not unheard of that either the memory of them is just that old or that your clan never had contact with them.
"The problem comes with relationships. You see, most of the time, you don't go out with someone that gives you a bad feeling, since you know that it's probably an enemy. But sometimes, first impressions can be wrong, and people that drive each other nuts one week can be in love the next week. It's when they test out to see if they are enemies or not that's where all the problems start."
"There's a test you can do for that? Then how does the name law protect you at all?"
"Another law," he said resignedly. "This law states that only those two can check to see if they're compatible, or if they have friendly clan histories. They can never reveal the results of that test, although if they get married anyway that's a pretty certain thing that they're clan allies."
"So how does the test work?" she asked.
"They touch antennae and look through some of the other's clan memories," Modo said in a serious voice. "It's called the 'seimdath', or mind-spin, because that's exactly what its like. They have no control over which memories they see, but they unconsciously will try to find memories about that person's clan. It's a huge trust between two people that mean to spend the rest of their lives together. And it hurts like hell if they find out that they're enemies."
"That would be horrible," Charley said softly. "They always break up?"
He nodded. "Could you sleep beside someone that you think might knife you in the back?"
She whistled low. "That would put a damper on things." She glanced back up at him, a terrible suspicion forming in her mind. "There's more to this though, isn't there?"
He nodded, his face solemn. "If you agree to become part of our clan, we would show you our memories, our secrets. You would carry them with you as a part of you for the rest of your life. And if you stay with Throttle, and someday do the test with him"--
"No"—
"He could prove to be your enemy"—
"NO!! That's not possible! You and him have been friends ever since you met, you said so!"
"But there's always that chance," Modo said painfully. "That one little chance that we both were wrong, and we've been enemies all this time, just so long ago that it was forgotten."
"So that's why Silva said 'selfish'," Charley said in rising bitterness. "I choose all of you, or Throttle." She got up from the grass, Modo reaching to try and touch her arm. She jerked away from him. "No. Just—no. I need to think, alright? Just"—Her throat started to choke up with the urge to either scream or cry, she wasn't sure which. She ran off towards the front of the garage, the sound of a motorcycle revving and peeling out of the parking lot a second later.
Modo slowly stood up, his ears drooping and his tail hung low. Rimfire came back a moment later, his stance matching his uncle's as soon as he saw it. "She said no?"
"She's torn about it," he said morosely. "And I don't blame her. But I got to admit, I'm surprised. I really thought she'd turn us down flat."
"What?!" Rimfire looked at him in shock. "B-but—then why did you still want to offer it if you thought she'd say no?"
"Because," the grey mouse said softly, "I know just how long she's loved Throttle, and there's no way she'd ever leave him. I thought for sure she'd"---
"What have you done?" A new voice cut through the air like a whip. Throttle had caught the last few bits they'd said, and stared at the two startled mice in something like horror, which was quickly being replaced by anger. "What have you done, Modo?"
The grey mouse met his angry bro's gaze with a calm one of his own. "My clan has offered to make Charley one of our own. But bro, I never thought"—
"Obviously," Throttle snapped, his look now one of shock. "You don't know her at all, do you? Do you even understand what you offered her?! She lost all her family, Modo, every last one, her mother, her father, her uncle, all the way down to her best friends! She'd give anything to have something like that back again, and now you've made her choose?!"
Modo was stunned at hearing about her loss. Gods, if he'd had any idea it would be so hard for her---"I didn't know"—
"Don't you think you should have asked?!" He roared. "Three years we've known her and never once heard her talk about any living family?! No visits, no phone calls, nothing! Where did you think they were?!" His fists clenched hard enough for his nails to draw blood from his palms, and the fact that he was seriously debating breaking his bro's jaw made him force himself to calm down. "I'll go talk to her."
"No, I will," Modo said.
"No," Throttle said. And it was a command this time. "I won't try to influence her for either way, I swear it. But I am going to go see my girl." Without another word he stalked out of the yard and got on his bike, almost slamming his helmet on. "Take me home, bike."
It raced off to follow after Charley.
*&*&*&*&*
He found her back at Chloe's mansion, curled up with her back against the headboard of the bed in their room. He tapped the door lightly, suddenly unsure of his welcome. What if she had---"Charley?"
She looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Hey, otaku." She wiped her eyes, trying to get back her composure. "You heard what Modo said?"
He came in the room and sat beside her on the bed. "Only the last part of it. Modo filled in the rest."
She looked away. "I'm sorry you heard any of it."
Throttle reached out and took her hand in his. "Its alright."
She stretched out her legs and moved closer to him, the mouse taking the hint and pulling her into his lap. He wrapped strong arms around her and the girl laid her head on his shoulder. He couldn't stop the negative thoughts from crossing his mind. What if she says yes? I couldn't blame her for it either. Gods, I've wanted a clan like Modo's my entire life.
But—gods, I can't loose her. I have no idea how to make it without her anymore. A muffled sound of renewed crying made him hold her closer, and for his anger at Modo to grow. I swear to Kysha, I'm dragging that grey-furred moron out and giving him the beating of his life.
Charley pulled herself closer to Throttle, trying to get her mind to calm. But it was one hell of challenge, since her own thoughts had been hard to swallow. For one moment, she had actually considered Silva's offer. To choose them over the man she loved. The human could honestly say that she'd never been more disappointed in herself in her life. But she did want what they offered so badly. A mom that loved her in Silva, a big brother in Modo, a sister in Auri. Even a cute nephew in Rimfire. The idea of it made her heart ache for something like that. So now I'm the one that's selfish, she thought in sadness.
The fact that she had considered it made her go over a few things in her heart, and question them hard. It had pulled up memories she'd pushed away before, a longing for what she'd lost nearly crushing her. But she pushed through it. She had reached her decision, and would follow it to the end, no matter where it led her.
She glanced up at the bionic eyes behind the mirror-shades. "Throttle?"
"Yeah, darlin'?"
"Is there a polite way of telling them no?"
He didn't dare breathe for a minute, sure he hadn't heard right. "Charley?"
"I'm going to tell them no. Is there a certain way you do that?"
"Are…..are you sure, baby?" He said, his normal composure completely gone. Was she really—did she understand what she was doing? To give up a chance like that?
She was really choosing him?
"I'm sure. I love Modo and his family, just not enough, I guess. But I do love you, Throttle. First and foremost."
"First?"
He sounded so dumbfounded that she almost had to stifle a laugh, even as she felt herself blush. Did she really have to spell it out for him? "First in my heart. So no matter what, I will always choose you. That's just how it is." She gasped as his arms suddenly hugged her tight, his muzzle pressed to her neck.
He tried to say something, anything that would tell her just how much he knew it had to hurt her to turn them down, that he would never forget what she had given up for him. But the only words he could force out were a softly whispered, "Thank you."
Hours later, as they lay in bed with her soft breathing proving her sweetly asleep, the Martian was searching his own heart. He weighed what was most precious to him, and found himself finding an answer that, while not really unexpected, still surprised him. His decision was made.
Now all he had to do was go find Modo.