BIG thanks to my beta reader/editor Glazier Blue who has been helping me with this story, and helped immensely with this chapter.
I'm not entirely sure how trigger warning work, but Charley does go to a really dark place in this chapter, very briefly, so…
Possible trigger warning there…
Planet: Mars
Location: Freedom Fighter Headquarters
It had been three days since the attack. Three days since they had gathered the dead from Quiet Grove and given them burials.
Three days since she and Throttle had spoken to each other.
Charley stared listlessly down at her plate, moving the food around with her fork. Her mind plagued with the visions from her nightmares the last few nights.
Explosions ringing in her ears...
The screams of civilians as they ran…
Amelia's blood on her hands…
The sound of her pistol firing and the smell of burnt flesh…
She gasped sharply and shook her head, getting up from the table, leaving her still full plate behind. She brushed her hair out of her face as she scurried towards the garage, intent on working on Comet for a while. She barrelled into someone, who caught her as she stumbled. She looked up to see the face of the General eyeing her with a concerned expression.
"Oh, Stoker… sorry…" she trailed off as the man continued to stare at her, making her feel self-conscious. She realised with a start that they hadn't spoken either since the day of the battle. "…I'll just be going-" She turned away, but stopped when she realised that he hadn't let go of her arm.
"Charley…" She winced at his tone, a steely undertone to the concern floating in his voice. "I'm saying this as gently as I can…You look like death warmed over." She forced out a laugh.
"I feel like death warmed over." She replied humourlessly. Stoker's brow furrowed, and Charley looked away, before the mouse gently turned her around to face him fully.
"Charlene…talk to me." He crooned. Charley closed her eyes against the torrent of emotion that raced through her. She bowed her head in shame.
"It's my fault." She admitted faintly. She felt Stoker tense, but didn't look up.
"What?" she dared herself to look at him. Seeing the genuine confusion on his face made her frustrated, and she shook her head sharply.
"It's my fault Amelia died." She said harshly, pushing herself away from the mouse. "If it hadn't been for me, you would have seen the attack coming. And if I hadn't messed with their machines in the first place-"
"Hey! Don't go there, Charlene." She flinched slightly at Stoker's tone. She felt him place his hands on her shoulders in a comforting manner. "None of this was your fault. Those Stink-faces are always attacking civilians. This time it just…happened to be Quiet Grove." She turned her head to him, gazing at him over her shoulder.
"Are you sure?" she enquired. "How do you know they didn't attack because of me?"
He didn't answer her. She sighed and stepped out of his hold, head bowed as she walked away.
"Charley!" She ignored his call, escaping into the garage. She looked up to find Comet waiting for her, the bike seeming to sense her mood and beeping quietly. Her heart ached as she gazed on the machine. Yet another reminder that her being here was making things worse.
She couldn't stop thinking about Amelia's death. Throttle had never spoken about her, but that did not mean she was dead back in her time. But now…What if-
"Hey Charley." She turned to see Vinnie and Modo enter the garage, looking somewhat less haggard than her. She forced a smile.
"Hey guys, what's up? Do your bikes need a tune up?" she said as cheerily as she could. It did not seem to fool either of them though. Modo stepped forward, a pleading expression on his face.
"Charley, you gotta talk to Throttle." He implored. Charley winced at the request, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.
"Guys…I don't think that's a good idea." She mumbled. Modo placed his hands on her shoulders.
"Please Charley. He hasn't eaten in days. He doesn't talk to anyone." She could hear the alarm in the grey mouse's voice before Vinnie stepped forward.
"We've been trying for days, but he's just…not responding." She turned her head to the white mouse. She had never heard him sound so alarmed before. Yet another thing she was responsible for. She shook her head.
"You two have known him far longer than me. What makes you think I can get him to talk?" she questioned. Modo and Vinnie shared a glance before looking back to her.
"You're his sister now, Charley. If anyone can get through to him right now, it will be you." Vinnie answered. Charley bit her lip and looked down at the ground. She really wasn't sure what she was meant to do here. But the bros clearly thought she would be able to help. She sighed and straightened.
"Ok…but I'm not making any promises…" she declared, still very unsure of herself. It seemed to settle the bros though, who both released sighs of relief. Modo gave her a quick hug.
"Thanks Charley-ma'am." He whispered.
Charley felt the void in her gut increase even more as the name struck her like bullet. She blinked back the tears and forced a reassuring smile, hugging the mouse back before letting go. Vinnie was quick to follow with a hug as well, which she also returned before heading back to the dinner hall. A few mice were still there, many of them giving her a pitying smile as she passed them. She tried not to think about it as she grabbed a small plate and filled it with food. As an after-thought, she grabbed a glass and filled it with the drink of the day. Goods in hand, she headed for Throttle's room. The door was shut when she got there. Using her elbow to open the door, she pushed it open slowly to see the dark room beyond. Opening the door more, she could finally make out the lump on the bed. Throttle was laying with his back to the door, facing the wall. He hadn't acknowledged her entrance at all. She swallowed the lump in her throat.
"Throttle?" She murmured softly.
"Go away." The harsh reply made her jerk. But she steeled herself. She was supposed to be his sister. She had to take care of him. She took a few steps closer.
"I've brought you some food." She said softly.
"I'm not hungry." He mumbled. Charley's brow furrowed.
"You have to eat something." She coaxes. Throttle seemed to hunch in on himself.
"I said I'm not hungry." He repeated. Charley could hear the agitation in his voice. Maybe this was a bad idea. She sighed, stepping closer to the bed.
"Throttle please, we're starting to get worried." She counters. She saw his head turn ever so slightly in her direction, yet he still would not face her.
"What part of go away didn't you understand?" he sneers. She shakes her head as she gets closer.
"I'm just trying to help-"
"SHUT UP!" The glass is violently knocked from her hand and it shatters against the wall. The plate crashes to the floor when she drops it in shock. "YOU'VE HELPED ENOUGH!" Throttle's face, void of his specs, is twisted in rage. His cold eyes pin her in place as he advances on her, making her step back in fear…for the first time since meeting him. "If it weren't for you, MY mother would still be alive! WE SHOULD NEVER HAVE ADOPTED YOU!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Throttle felt the icy cold stab of regret pierce his chest. He watched as his sister's face turned white as a sheet, her breath turning shallow as tears began to pool in her eyes. Throttle felt his own eyes sting as he began gasping, shaking his head in denial.
"I…I didn't…Charley I'm sorr…" It was no use. The damage was done. Throttle stared helplessly as she fled the room, hand covering her mouth to hold the sobs threatening to escape. He stumbled after her, getting as far as the door, reaching out. "Charley! Charley, wait! Please!" She ignored him, already turning the corner down the hall. He leaned against the door frame as he felt his legs give out, sliding slowly to the floor. There he stayed, replaying his words in his head over and over again as he dropped his head in his hands. He had no clue how long he sat there before he heard someone call his name.
"Throttle?" He looked up to see Modo and Vinnie, both of his bros looking distressed at finding him like this. Modo kneeled at his side, his arm bracing him while Vinnie remained standing.
"Bro, what happened?" his grey furred bro asked. Throttle could only shake his head.
"I…I screwed up bros…" he whispered. Making up his mind, he quickly stood, much to the surprise of his bros. "I gotta find Charley. Did you see where she went?" His bros glanced at each other with wide eyes, shaking their heads.
"No, she ran right past us…" Vinnie answered.
"Dammit. I gotta go…" with that he pushed past his bros, racing down the hall, ignoring their calls. He continued rushing down the hall, giving rushed apologies to the mice he ran into. He checked every room along the way, hoping to find Charley in one of them, but she wasn't there. Finally, he reached the garage. Harley was there, and she nearly dropped her wrench in shock as he barged in. he paid her no mind as his gaze tore across the room. Comet was missing.
"Throttle?" he spun to Harley, who was watching him with wide eyes.
"Harley, have you seen Charley?" he asked, desperately. Her eyebrows raised as she glanced to the door leading outside, putting her tool down.
"She drove off a few minutes ago. Is everything ok?" she asked softly, approaching him. He began shaking as he breathing turned quick.
"No. No, it's not. I need to…"
"Hey, what's going on?" Throttle's head snapped towards the entrance of the garage, and he rushed toward Stoker in a panic.
"Stoke! I gotta go. I screwed up. I blew up at Charley and she didn't deserve it and I need to apologise…" He spoke faster and faster until he felt hands grasping his shoulders.
"Woah, slow down mudpuppy." He stopped, finally noticing the tears streaming down his face. Stoker's face was drawn as he guided him to a bench, setting him down before kneeling in front of him. "Take a deep breath and start from the top." Throttle drew in a shaky breath, letting it out slowly as he gripped at his legs.
"Charley came to my room earlier, trying to get me to eat. I-I yelled at her. I… blamed her for Mom's death. I didn't mean it, and I shouldn't have said it, but… She ran out, and I don't blame her, but I have to find her and apologize… I need to apologize Coach." He ended his confession with a plea. He watched as his teacher drew back a little, closing his eyes as he sighed.
"She blames herself, you know…" he muttered. Throttle did a double take.
"What?" Stoker raised his eyes back to him.
"She blames herself for Amelia's death. She thinks it's her fault the Plutarkians attacked Quiet Grove." Throttle shook his head in disbelief.
"But… it's not… They've always gone around attacking innocent folks." He tried to reason, but Stoker shook his head.
"That's not how she sees it, kid." The General replies. Throttle swallows as he looks down at the ground, mind racing. If Charley was already blaming herself for their mother's death, then what he had said…
"Oh man. What am I going to do?" he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut as he grips at his hair. Stoker rises from the floor and places a hand on his shoulder.
"First, you're going to find your sister and apologize. Then, you two are going to talk before you come back. You both have a lot you need to work through, together." He orders, voice going soft upon the last sentence. Throttle sighs, nodding and rising when Stoker releases him. He offers a weak smile to the mouse.
"Thanks Coach." Stoker offers a smirk in response.
"Any time, mudpuppy." Throttle moves towards Lady, who meets him halfway and presents his helmet to him. He quickly puts it on and mounts his bike, turning to see Stoker still watching him with his arms crossed.
"And Stoker…" the mouse raises a brow, "if you and Charley wanna… get together? I won't stand in your way." He can no longer fight the smirk off his face as he adds. "Though I am obligated to inform you that I will break both your arms if you break her heart." That draws a snigger from the General.
"Noted." Throttle turns back and starts his engine. "Throttle…" he turns back to Stoker.
"Try Fair Grove."
Charley raced down the hall as tears streamed down her face. She ignored the voices of Modo and Vinnie calling her as she brushed past them, turning sharply into the garage. Harley jumped as she entered, but she paid her no mind as she grabbed her helmet. Comet rolled over to her, and she mounted her quickly.
"Please, just drive, girl." She whimpered, and the bike complied, racing out of the base and into the unknown. Charley merely held onto the handlebars as she wept. She just needed to distance herself. From Throttle, the bros, headquarters…EVERYTHING!
If it weren't for you, MY mother would still be alive! WE SHOULD NEVER HAVE ADOPTED YOU!
Throttle's words echoed in her mind, slamming her over and over again like a sledgehammer. The only coherent thought was that he was right. This was her fault. Amelia may still be alive if not for her. The image of her broken body flashed before her eyes and she cried out once more, shutting her eyes to try and force the image away.
She felt Comet slow to a stop and quickly braced herself with her leg, her blurry gaze sweeping across her surroundings.
Comet had brought her to Fair Grove. Her gut twisted at the memory. Of her and Stoker being here together…before everything went to hell. She knew the bike was likely trying to cheer her up, by bringing her to a place that held a happy memory but now… it was simply too tainted by her guilt.
She took off her helmet and rose from the bike, placing the helmet on the seat and gently patting the fuel tank. Comet beeped lowly in response, but made no further move. Charley found herself walking up the hill to where she and Stoker had sat mere days before, and watched the horizon.
The view of the barren wasteland contrasted with the abundant valley Stoker had shown her, and she bowed her head, eyes squeezed shut.
What had she been thinking? She couldn't change things for the better! The bros were always rescuing her from Limburger's goons. The only thing she was good for were fixing up their bikes from time to time. She shouldn't be here! Mars had been fine without her. The BROS had been fine without her! Everything would have been better if she were not here!
Her thoughts returned to Amelia's death. She had never been mentioned in her time…but there was no evidence to suggest she had indeed died during the Plutarkian occupation of Mars. If she hadn't…
She started weeping anew, hugging herself tightly as she curled in on herself.
This really is my fault…I caused this.
She stayed there for what felt like hours, before she sighed and raised her head. The sun had set and the night sky was starting to come to life above her. Two stars caught her eye. They were twinkling beside each other, reminding her of the two stars from Peter Pan. With a start, she realized what they were.
It was Earth. Her home planet and its moon, millions of miles away. Yet another reminder of what she had lost. She curled her hands into fists as she cursed her fate. Why hadn't Karbunkle's weapon simply destroyed her? It would have resulted in less pain for everyone involved. Maybe that had been the point. Maybe he wanted to deliver one final act of cruelty to the Mice he so abhorred… and she drew the short straw.
Lowering her head, her gaze fell upon the edge of the cliff. For the first time, she noticed the drop. There was a deep gorge, just underneath the cliff edge. In the dim light of the evening, she couldn't see the bottom.
It would be so easy to simply…walk off the edge. To just disappear. She wouldn't cause any more damage is she were-
Charley startled herself and stepped back, shaking violently. She pulled at her hair as she hyperventilated. She had nearly…she…
An image of Throttle's devastated face flashed in her mind, followed by Modo, Vinnie, and everyone else she had gotten to know here on Mars. She couldn't do this. Not to them. They did not deserve that. Least of all Throttle. She may have only been his sister for 2 weeks, but goddammit she'd known him for years. He would blame himself. She WOULDN'T do this to him.
She took her deep breath, trying to calm her thoughts…and unbidden, her Uncle's voice floated in her head.
"Sometimes, you have to get knocked down lower than you have ever been to stand back up taller than you ever were. And when that happens, Cyclone, remember this: The people that truly care about you will never give you more than you can take. They may let you bend…but they will never let you break."
This was her lowest moment…and she had to decide if she would break, or return stronger than before. She closed her eyes, asking herself one question.
"Why am I here?" The faces of her bros came to mind, both their future selves and the present. Stoker's smirking face, Rimfire and Primer's laughter, Harley's good-natured smile. The Freedom Fighters cheers after a battle won. The family that escaped the attack, thanks to her.
They were why she was here. She was here for them. It was definitely not what Karbunkle had intended, of that she was sure, but she'd be damned if she wasn't going to do her best to protect them. Her family. She was going to ensure that their future was brighter than it had been the first time around…even if it killed her in the end.
A noise startled her, and she started to turn when the ground suddenly crumbled beneath her feet. Almost in slow motion she felt her stomach drop as she went over the edge of the cliff. She looked down, seeing the gorge where she would soon land growing closer… and for a moment, resigned herself to that fate.
She came to a sharp halt when someone grabbed her arm, holding on for dear life.
"Hang on! I've got you!" She gaze darted up to see Throttle, laying over the edge of the cliff, hands grasping at her. She gasped as she felt her legs swing beneath her, reaching with her other hand. Her brother grabbed it quickly, and began heaving her back over the cliff edge. She scrambled, searching for purchase with her feet, finally finding it after a few moments and pushing herself back up. As soon as they were both kneeling on solid ground, Throttle hauled her into a tight embrace.
"What the hell were you doing, Charley?" he yelled brokenly in her ear. She froze in her attempts to pull back.
"I…I wasn't..." Throttle placed his hands on her shoulders, gripping tightly as he held her at arms-length.
"Then what were you doing?!" He was shaking, whether from the adrenaline or the tears that were starting to run down his face, she didn't know. She realized with a start she was crying too.
"I DON'T KNOW! I thought about it, ok? But I…" she was cut off when Throttle pulled her into a crushing hug. This time she reciprocated, holding onto him like a lifeline. The siblings sat there, weeping in each other's arms for what felt like hours. After a while, they were both spent. Charley felt Throttle loosen his grip on her, and she started pulling back as well. His eyes were red-rimmed and his cheeks sported tear tracks, no doubt like her own. He lowered his head, shaking.
"I'm…so sorry, Charley. I'm so ashamed of what I said you. None of it was true. I didn't mean any of it." He murmured, hands balled up into tight fists. Charley reached to cup his cheek, wiping his tears away. He looked up at her with a sorrowful gaze. "I know I don't deserve to ask this, not after what I said but…Please, don't leave. I can't lose anyone else." He whimpered, voice cracking. She sniffed and held out her arms. Throttle leaned forward, resting his head in the crook on her neck and shoulder. She rubbed his back soothingly.
"You won't. I promise." she whispered into his ear. He hugged her around her waist in response, and she felt his shaky breath against her skin. She closed her eyes and leaned her head on his.
"You know I don't blame you, right? It wasn't your fault." He murmured. She let out a shaky breath.
"…I killed someone." She rasped. Throttle tensed and pulled back, looking her in the eye. "These three Sand Raiders were threatening a mom and her kids. I knocked two of them down, and Comet broke the last guy's leg. The mom and her kids ran." She felt her breathing quicken as the memories came flashing back. "But then one of them grabbed me and…and I just…I reacted. I didn't mean to shoot him, it just-"
"Hey, it's ok." Throttle crooned, rubbing her arms as she fought to get her breathing under control. "You did what you had to do, Charley-girl. Because of you, that family got away. Sometimes…you need to do bad things to survive." She sniggered humourlessly.
"Who told you that?" she muttered.
"Stoker…right after I puked my guts out after my first kill." He admitted with a sardonic smile. Her eyes widened as she looked at her brother. She truly hadn't known the bros back on Earth. She never even considered that they would have had to kill during the war. And as she now knew, that type of thing was not easy to deal with. Her respect for the mice grew exponentially. She leaned in for another hug, one Throttle gladly returned.
After a while, they heard the beeping of Lady and Comet below. Throttle looked up at the sky and sighed.
"It's late. We should get back to headquarters." His voice was rough from all the crying, but she doubted she sounded any better. He stood and held a hand out to her, which she gladly took. Once she was standing he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She responded by wrapping an arm around his waist. Together, the siblings made their way back to their bikes. The drive back was a silent one, but Charley felt lighter than she had in days.
Headquarters was dark and silent when they arrived, so they removed their helmets quietly as they dismounted. Throttle approached her with a soft smile.
"Promise me you won't do that again?" he asked softly. Charley smiled in return.
"I promise." She gave him another hug, which he returned.
"Well…this is interesting."
They both gasped and pulled back, turning to the voice… a voice Charley recognized.
Standing in the doorway, was a female mouse. She was wearing a Tuscan sun yellow shirt with mustard detailing, of which the sleeves stopped at her elbow. A two toned vest was worn over the shirt, olive green at the shoulders and apple red on the rest, with a military rank visible on the right hand shoulder. Her mustard coloured pants were tucked into charcoal combat boots, along with sage green accents. Her grey furred arms were crossed, her hands covered in brown gloves. Her jet black hair hung loose down her back, bangs hanging just in front of her nutmeg brown eyes. She had a…less than impressed look on her face, which Charley noticed with a start was void of any scar. Throttle drew in surprised breath.
"Carbine…"
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