I would tell you how many chapters left, but at this point I have no idea so.
This may be my last update for a couple days. I'm going on a road trip before school starts and my internet connection will be spotty and terrible, and be as helpful to shit. To make up for it, I'm going to do a huge update haul on this account and my Wattpad account. (chokingcrayons for those of you who want to know.)
And the only internet I get is on my phone sine it's unlimited but I can't write worth anything on it so yeah.
Some story news in the bottom A/N. This is being written in the car, so yeah, it's hopefully long and entertaining enough to keep you occupied in my absence.
And for those of you who think I'm just a nutcase every time I say "we" I want you to remember that I do have a partner for this story—she's Cody Simpson vs. Billy Unger on here and came to me with this idea. Just in case some people forgot.
Chase's Pov
"Well, at least Leo was right about something," Bree said from beside me.
I don't know how a hostage is supposed to look, but other than the stench of several missed showers and a rough layer of dirt, Maria seemed to be in pretty decent shape.
Decent meaning that her clothes had minimal tears and that she was still breathing, but decent nonetheless.
Adam strapped the mission bag off from where it hung securely over his shoulder.
The stun gun was no bigger than a plastic water gun that you could find in a bin at the dollar store.
I walked closer, watching Maria's frightened eyes take in my every move as I neared her, but managed to keep my distance.
The differences between them stood out to me instantly. Unlike the flash of woman I saw leaving the play at curtain call; this Maria had fair hair and a more angled face with lighter eyes and an admittedly lankier figure.
The Maria we had been seeing may have shared the same face and body similarities where it counted, but you could obviously tell which one was the real one or not. Even without the obvious fact of being chained to a wall.
"Stun first?" Bree asked, her words barely passing through the side of her mouth as she advanced just as cautiously as I did. Adam had passed her the stun gun and she know gripped it in a loosely formed fist, hidden from Maria's sights in her hand.
With a barely visible nod from me of approval Bree squared her shoulders, and calmly walked forward, each step long and confident until she was standing a couple feet in front of the chained woman.
"We are the good guys," Bree said softly, keeping her voice low, "now, in order for us to help you, you need to help us too, okay?"
Maria gave a reluctant nod. I noticed as her jittery eyes bounced over to Adam and me, where we stood a couple feet behind Bree.
Our sister walked a little closer, reaching up to yank on the rusty cuffs chained to the wall. It looked padlocked, key necessary.
Bree tugged on the lock and turned to us, frowned, then turned back, her right hand held in a fist at her side while her left hand remained on the lock.
"I need you to stay calm," Bree ordered softly, before pressing the stun gun into Maria's stomach and pulling the trigger in her quick, swift movements.
Her left hand left the lock just as fast to cover her mouth as Maria let out a scream and went limp, her body sagging forward.
"Adam, break the lock," Bree hissed, giving said item another hard yanked. The movement of it caused the rusty chains to rattle and red copper flakes to fall from the old metal.
Adam grinned goofily, thrilled to break something. "Man I love breaking things!" he shouted in an excited low voice, confirming my theory.
He quickly ran over and gripped the lock in a tight fist, effortlessly pulling it off and sending Maria toppling over, now unaware and free of her chains. Bree reached out and caught her with a grunt as her body began tipping and threatened to send her to the floor.
I suddenly got lost in thought, everything washing over me like a massive wave. If this was the real Maria, it could change everything. Not only could Christine and Grant be able to know that their family had a possibility of filling up a void, it would change everything. No longer would there be a threat of an angry mother dangling over Christine and I's relationship; so much problems and stress would just vanish with half of the war already being over.
Snapping back, and making sure that Adam and Bree had their situation under control, my eyes fell on some of the many pages plastered to the wall.
I walked closer to the one nearest to me. It took a minute, but then I realized that it was a summary on a person—more specifically, Adam. It was printed and organized like the one of the sites Bree and Rachel used to stalk their favorite celebrities, Wikipedia, I think.
At the top was general information, like year of birth, place of origin, nationality. On the right hand side was a table listing the same things with his school picture above it. Three pages were below it, filled with the same printed words. I bent down and leaned closer, seeing that it gave information on his bionic abilities, like which ones they were and when they were developed. It even went on to say what he looked like and who he lived with and other family information.
Scowling at this, I went on to the next column of pages put a good foot or two away from Adam's. It was Bree's, listing the similar things in an identical fashion. But I nearly growled when I caught sight of something.
Right where the page talked about her bionic abilities was a picture. It wasn't like her school picture, one you could easily access by high jacking the school's firewall and making your way in to the system, but it was candid one. Of Bree, unconscious in the lab, wires hooked up to her stomach and head and every other available spot them to be.
What creeps! How goes around snapping pictures of people when they are deadly ill and not to mention helpless teenage girls in a coma?
I already knew what I would see when I looked to the column beside my sister's information. I saw my school picture, the one this moron could get yet no one could manage to put it—or my name for that matter—in the yearbook correctly.
It listed all the things about me in the same fashion it did my siblings, the table underneath giving everything from the color to my eyes to my average height.
But there was a fourth one.
Not to my surprise, Christine's there too. It was her last year's picture, her face broke out into a polite smile and her hair pulled back into a braid as her gorgeous brown eyes looked into the camera.
I wonder what she would think if she all of our information posted here, on display for everyone to see. She probably wouldn't be any more astounded than I was, honestly.
In a flurry of anger, I grabbed the sheets and tore them off the wall. To hell with covering our tracks, if Maria was gone I bet it would hardly make a difference if a few precious sheets of paper were ripped apart.
I grabbed Adam's first and shredded it, taking a corner and ripping it to the ground with a loud, echoing tear. Then Bree's, mine, and Christine's. It felt good—really good.
"Chase?" Bree asked behind me, hesitancy seeping into her voice as she spoke to me.
I turned to look at her. Adam stood by the door, our mission bag on one shoulder with Maria lying limply across his other one.
"Let's go," I muttered, kicking the papers as I went. The torn shreds fluttered behind me as the door slammed closed in our presence.
I never wanted to come back here again.
Christine's Pov
Of all the things I saw coming, this was not one of them.
Even with the evidence right in front of me, I hadn't believed it. And now, I still didn't.
I was sitting on the couch at the Davenports, messing with my fingers. It was pretty early, sevensomething in the morning with the sky stuck in a dull gray with the rain stilling pounding down on the city.
Chase called me about an hour ago, him never have gotten to sleep after him, Adam, and Bree returned from their mission at about two in the morning.
When he first told me that there was a clone of my mother running around with the evil puppet guy, the real one chained up and locked in a dungeon, the first thing to run through me was relief with a twinge of anger. Then a thought came to me: how the hell was dad going to feel about this?
My mother leaving had been taking its toll on him for more than ten years, and her (or who we thought was the real her) being evil and trying to sue us had pushed him over the edge. What was this going to do to him? My dad could not end up in the hospital again, he just couldn't.
"Oh!" a voice said from the stairs, making me jump up and turn, instinctively going in to my starting stance. When I saw that it was just Tasha, in workout clothes with a yoga mat tucked underneath her arm, I calmed down and took position on the couch again.
"Oh, it's just you," I said as she came closer.
"I didn't know the others were up," Tasha said, looking in the general direction of the lab.
I shook my head quickly. "They aren't yet—well, Chase was, then he disappeared so I don't really know what happened to him."
Tasha nodded, then gestured to the blue matt tucked underneath her arm with the matching water bottle dangling from her wrist. "Well, I must be off," she announced, waving goodbye as she slipped out the door. "I can't leave Phoebe waiting."
Phoebe was a housewife that lived down the street and was basically the village idiot, and gossiper. But due to the whole village idiot role, she usually got all her stories mixed up and everybody hated her. Obviously Tasha was too nice to turn down her offer.
Just as she left Chase came up, sliding into the spot next to me. He set a steaming cup in front of me that wafted through the air with the aroma of cinnamon.
"Oh my god," I said after taking a sip, coffee and cinnamon coffee milk sliding down to slosh around in my empty stomach. "Caffeine."
Chase laughed at me over the rim of his own mug, smiling into the rising steam.
He set his mug down, me following the suit soon after. Chase sighed, leaning over to rest his head on my shoulder. I rolled my eyes at his childishness and leaned back, running a hand through his hair and teasing his scalp with my fingers.
We just sat there. Chase was playing with the fingers of my free hand.
It struck me how much we're a couple without really being a couple. We called ourselves a couple, kissed and touched, and fought and broke up then got back together, but we didn't go on dates, call each other personalized names (which, either way, was admittedly a couple tradition I found to be a bit worthless and totally puke-worthy, but still), or make out during movies.
All this mission and superhero stuff was a lot to go through while trying to balance a relationship with the guy you loved too.
"I'm going to kiss you now," Chase exclaimed suddenly, his breath puffing out in warm breaths on my ear.
I turned to him, our noses brushing. "Go for it," I breathed, just before he tackled me to a lying position on the couch.
He smashed our lips together in fiery passion. I reached up to lock my hands together behind his neck and tangle my hands in his hair. I felt his left hand reach up to cradle the back of my head while his right one kept him up, from crushing me.
Just as I felt his lips trail away from the corner of my mouth and his left hand move to rest flatly against my stomach, a voice cried out, "Oooh, the Geek and his Princess! I haven't seen this movie yet!"
We pulled away with mutual groans, panting as we screamed in annoyance, "EDDY!"
"What," he said as if he didn't know, "I need to stop you before the clothes fly. I've already seen Donnie's tightie-whities; I don't need to see Boy Wonder's either."
Chase glared at him, glowering as he straddled me.
"Okay, okay, I can take a hint," Eddy said finally, disappearing.
Chase turned back to me, smirking as he bent down to my neck. "Now, where were we?" he whispered against my skin, kissing the area above my collarbone. I felt my eyes slipped close, his fingers pressing and making soothing circles against the tight muscles of my stomach.
He kissed his way up my throat, my jawline, before finding my lips again.
His hand crept up, up, up…
They were brushing against the edge of my bra now, threatening to slither back and rest on the clasp of my bra.
I wanted this, I really, really, really wanted it. But we were in the middle of a stressful time. And I loved him, but the timing, everything had to be perfect.
"Wait." I pulled back, putting both of my hands on his chest to push him back. He sat up, cocking his head at me.
"You want this as much as I, don't you?" he asked, anxiety beginning to creep into his tone.
I shook my head. "I mean, yeah, of I do. But…"
"But what?"
"We just can't right now, okay?"
I watched him climb off me, giving me a long, intense look before he began pacing in front of the end of the couch, rubbing his face with one hand.
"Is it because I'm the same age as you? Is it because I'm not famous and able to tour around the world?" Chase asked, stopping abruptly.
I furrowed my eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"
"You told me that you and Hunter…did it when you were fifteen. He was seventeen. Do I have to be two years older to be able to show love for my girlfriend?"
"Of course not," I said, standing myself.
"Then why can't we? I know I may not be your first, but it's been a year, Christine. How much longer do I have to wait? Because you and Hunter weren't even together six months before you did it."
He stared at me for a long time, watching me open my mouth and close it like a fish out of water.
"I just don't get you," Chase said finally, looking miserable as he hurried upstairs, no doubt going to his room.
I sighed, my shoulders slumping.
"That was very stupid of you," Eddy stated, adding his two cents as he popped up again.
I shot him a fierce glare. "Shut up."
"He's right, you know," a voice said from behind me.
I jumped, slapping a hand to my chest and turning to see Bree looking at, drinking from one of our mugs. She set it back down, squinting at me.
"I mean, I know you love my brother," Bree said, looking to the stairs and where Chase had been. "And he loves you. He's been doing a lot of things for me."
"I know," I agreed miserably.
"And I'm not asking for you to have guilt sex with him, because that would mean nothing, at least nothing important." Bree turned to me, crossing her arms over her chest. "Just don't hurt him again. This school semester alone has been enough to drive him over the edge."
"So what do I do?"
"The least you could give him is an explanation," she said finally. "At least give him that."
Well, there's that. This came out longer than I expected because I really had no idea how to write this, plus I've been busy playing catch-up, so yeah.
As for the promised story news, I will be doing a new Lab Rats story once my Fosters fic (ABC's) is finished, which probably means September or October. Marcus will be one of the main characters, it will partly center around him, and that's all I want to say about that.
I also plan to work really hard on my Austin & Ally fic—The Summer She Left Me. I already have the third chapter halfway finished, but I just need to finish it.
As for Different Summers, the fifth chapter has been halfway finished for like a month now, I just always forget about it.
I will have a new Teen Beach Movie one-shot up soon, it will probably be in the 15000-2500 word area, because it's a friendship/audition fic that people want me to do.
That's all I can promise for now, story-wise. If you want to check out my more serious, novel-like stories and get updates on them and basically my every day like, go to my Wattpad account: chokingcrayons.
So, review, and tell me what you thought of this chapter and I'll try as hard as possible to get the next chapter up soon, but it may be a bit.