I'M ALIVE!

This chapter was a nightmare to write. I kept going back and forth about what I wanted to happen and it just…wasn't happening. Eventually I said enough was enough and took a step back to clear my head….

And ended up not writing for about 4 months.

Thankfully, the inspiration and the drive to write finally hit me this week, and this chapter is finished.

I hope you all enjoy it!

"Vinnie, meet me outside of the interrogation room in 10 minutes. Harley, you should probably wait in the garage for Modo." Stoker instructed as he passed by the couple seated at a nearby table. The pair looked up bewildered.

"Wait, what? Why does she have to wait for Modo in the garage?" the white furred mouse asked as Harley silently wiped away the remainder of her tears.

"He's gone to fetch Primer. She thinks she can make an antidote for Charley." He admitted. That made both mice start.

"What?" Harley gasped as she raised her hands to her mouth. Vinnie jumped up from his seat.

"Coach, are you serious?" He asked in a heartened tone. Stoker sighed and shrugged halfheartedly.

"We have no guarantee she'll be successful, but right now, she's the best shot we have at saving her. Harley…"

"Say no more, Stoke." She broke in. "I'll make sure she has everything she needs." She reassured, stopping to give Vinnie a quick kiss on the cheek before heading for the garage. Vinnie blushed a bright red, fingers brushing lightly on the spot where Harley had kissed him. Stoker raised a brow and cleared his throat rather loudly. If it was at all possible, Vinnie blushed even brighter and coughed a few times.

"I'll…uh…I'll wait by the door for you, Coach." He blurted as he rushed from the room. Stoker heaved a sigh and shook his head fondly. That mudpuppy…

"Stoker." He paused and turned at the steely tone. Throttle stood stone-faced, hands clenched into fists, his shoulders tense and tail flicking violently behind him. He was without his signature specs for once, and Stoker could see the storm brewing in his cobalt blue eyes. "I'm going too." Stoker shook his head.

"No, your place right now is with Charley." he stated firmly. Throttle twitched and made to pass him, but Stoker stepped in front of him. Throttle fixed him with a murderous glare, but he didn't flinch.

"That rat tried to murder my sister." He snarled.

"Which is exactly why you're not going in there." He asserted. "If I let you in there, you'll end up losing it. You are too close to this." Throttle growled.

"And you're not?" Stoker took a moment to collect himself.

"I am the Leader of the Freedom Fighters. This is an attack on one of my men, not just someone I care about."

"But…"

"He's right Throttle." They both started and turned to see Carbine standing in the doorway. She approached them, pulling Throttle gently and prying his hands free of their curled state, brushing her thumbs over his nail-cut palms. "Stay with Charley. I'll make sure the guy gets what's coming to him." She reassured with a gentle caress to his cheek. Stoker raised a brow.

"You sure that's a good idea, Soldier? This will likely reach the Army at some point, and if you're involved…" He broke off when Carbine turned to him with a steely gaze.

"Even the Army has its lines in the sand when it comes to Assassinations, General. I'll be fine." She responded, before turning back to her boyfriend. Taking his face gently in her hands, she placed a kiss on his lips before petting his ears. "Throttle, go." Caught off guard by the kiss, the tan mouse tensed with the instruction, before sighed heavily as the fight left him. He quickly returned a kiss before gathering her up in an embrace, hiding his face in her hair. Stoker glanced away at the display of affection.

"Ok but give him hell." He heard Throttle murmur, and he could practically hear the snarl on Carbine's face at her response.

"Oh, I plan to."

They made their way down the hall in stony silence. He could hear Vinnie cracking his neck and the grinding of Carbine's teeth. He felt his own fingers cramping from their position balled into fists and slowly straightened them. Stoker glanced ahead to his destination and spotted Mace nonchalantly leaning against the wall by the door. The mouse glanced up in their direction and moved to stand straight and salute them.

"Mace, how's the prisoner?" he questioned. Mace sighed and shrugged helplessly.

"I hate to say it, Coach, but he's clammed up about it all. Maybe seeing our fearless leader will get him to open up." Stoker nodded, having expected it.

"If not, I think Carbine's got a few ideas of her own." He said with a glance back to the female mouse, who smirked darkly back at him.

"Good luck to you then." Mace chuckled and lifted his hands in surrender as he walked away. Stoker watched for a bit before turning to the interrogation room. Opening the door, he stepped aside to let Vinnie and Carbine in first. Vinnie made himself comfortable leaning against the wall arms crossed, while Carbine began a slow patrol behind Tynan's seat. Tynan himself seemed unbothered by their presence, sipping on a glass of water that was provided to all their prisoners during interrogation. The shackles on his wrists clinked as he placed the glass back on the table. Stoker narrowed his eyes as he took a seat across from the mouse. Tynan glanced up but made no further acknowledgements.

The silence stretched for a few moments before Carbine's patience ran out.

"Alright, Tynan, unless you want to be carried out on a stretcher, you better start talking." She growled. Tynan side-eyed the doe.

"I am already dead, Soldier. Those threats mean nothing to me." He deadpanned.

"Funny, you don't look dead, but that can certainly be arranged…" Vinnie drawled as he cracked his knuckles. Tynan barely spared him a glance as Stoker bit back a growl.

"Vincent." He warned, glancing at the white-furred mouse. Vinnie shot him a look back, pointedly crossing his arms again. Stoker narrowed his eyes at him before turning his attention back to the would-be assassin. "Look, I can already guess why you did what you did. And who your employers are. What I want to know is how?"

Tynan let out a snort, followed by derisive chuckle as he leaned back in his chair, shaking his head.

"You're blind General. You carry on about the corruption of the Council. You don't even see the cracks in your own foundation." Stoker fought back the twitch at the barb, jaw clenching as he leaned forward.

"Who helped you get into the monastery?" he pressed. Tynan stayed tightlipped, even when Carbine swiftly backhanded his head, making him growl in response. "Answer the question."

"Frankly I did her a favor." Tynan spat. "You know she wouldn't have survived the Trial of Orthos. I spared her the pain." Vinnie gave a bitter laugh.

"Yeah, well, hate to break it to you, but Charley's hardier than you think." Stoker could see the twitch in the assassin's face at that statement, and smirked.

"And as it turns out, Berlock Root affects humans differently than us mice. We have someone working on a cure for her right now." He could see the gears in Tynan's head turning. His breathing quickened as he came to the realization he had failed in his mission. "You lose this one, Tynan."

Tynan's breathing continued to quicken and began to sound raspy. Stoker felt a chill up his spine as the assassin gave a sardonic smirk.

"Do I? All this means is that…. you'll be the ones…to send her…to her death…." He broke off into a coughing fit, which turned into struggle for breath. Stoker eyes widened as spotted the glass of water from before, now giving off a pale white smoke.

"Dammit, he took Berlock Root!" He shouted as he shot up from his seat, practically vaulting over the table to catch the now collapsed mouse round the chest and heave him out of the chair and onto the floor. His wrists were still caught in the cuffs and having no time, Stoker used his laser gun to free Tynan. He could vaguely hear Carbine and Vinnie's calls for the medics as Tynan began seizing. After a few minutes, Tynan's body stilled. Stoker saw his blank, bloodshot eyes staring into nothing. It was pointless. He was gone.

"Shit…Dammit!" Stoker banged the floor with his fist in frustration and rage. Their only lead was gone, and now they had nothing to prove the Council's involvement in Charley's murder attempt. He covered his face with his hands, wincing at the smarting pain in his fingers at their treatment. He felt a hand grasp his shoulder and glanced up at Vinnie.

"I'm sorry, Coach." The kid sounded as defeated as he felt. Stoker took a deep breath and stood up, placing a reassuring hand on Vinnie's shoulder in response.

"It's not your fault. He's an assassin, I should have seen this coming." He took one last, long look at the body at their feet before Carbine stepped up.

"What do we do now?"

"Vinnie, go back to Harley, make sure she, Modo and Primer have all the help they need. Carbine, head back to Army headquarters, inform them of what's happened here." He gave the orders before glancing back. "Take him with you."

"You sure, Stoker?" Carbine asked as Vinnie saluted and left the room. Stoker sighed as he and Carbine left the room, leaving the medics to deal with Tynan's body.

"You said it yourself. The Army has its line in the sand when it comes to assassinations. And at this point, they're the only ones that can make an official report about this." Carbine nodded and turned to leave, before pausing and turning back to him.

"Keep me updated, okay?" Stoker smiled at her soft request. It seemed Charley had wormed her way into yet another mouse's heart.

"Will do."

"Primer, you sure you can do this?" Primer glanced at her uncle as he was helping her sort out the carefully chosen plants and herbs she had brought along from her garden. She had no idea if any of them would actually be of help to her own species let alone an alien, or if she had grabbed enough of them, but Rimfire was on standby back home to bring more should she need anything. She was fairly certain that Uncle Modo had broken the sound barrier to get them here, but she wasn't about to complain. Time was of the essence.

"Berlock Root attacks the parasympathetic nervous system, which causes bronchospasms, and the victim suffocates. For mice, it's too fast acting to administer an antidote, so no one has ever tried making one. If it's taking longer to affect Charley, that gives me time to neutralize the poison." She explained quickly. She could see Uncle Modo nod in response in the corner of her vision as he grabbed another bushel of herbs from her basket, placing them on the table.

"Wait, if the antidote works on Charley, do you think it would work for mice too?" Harley asked as she placed a set of test tubes on the table behind them, along with the rest of the chemistry set, the microscope and the other medical equipment that the Freedom Fighters had managed to either scrounge up or…borrow… from the Army's supplies.

"Maybe?" Primer hated how her voice wavered, shaking her head and grabbed a bundle of Pale Meadow Milfoil, picking the leaves off the stem and placing them in a mortar. "Like I said, it's too fast acting on mice to administer an antidote…although…" She paused in her work as a thought hit her.

"What?" Harley prompted as she collected a few agents and compounds from the cabinet.

"About five years ago, humans released a devise called an Epinephrine pen, or Epi-Pen for short. They use it to treat anaphylaxis, or an allergic reaction. Using the pen doesn't CURE the anaphylaxis, but it does give the body the boost it needs to combat the symptoms long enough to get the proper treatment. If I could create a compound that slows down the effects of Berlock Root…"

"Charley's reaction to the Berlock Root was already slower than it would be for a mouse. Maybe there's something in Human DNA that combats the effects." Harley hypothesized. Primer nodded.

"I think we may need some blood samples from Charley. To test the antidote on as well as study." She explained as she grabbed a few stems of Stammerwort and looked around for something to cut them with. Modo noticed her searching and reached across the table to grab the scissors and passed them to her. She nodded gratefully and cut the stems into smaller pieces, adding them to the mortar.

"I'll ask the docs to draw some samples for you." Harley said as she turned to leave, running almost full force into Vinnie as he entered the room. "Vinnie! How did the interrogation go?"

"It didn't. Tynan's dead. He took Berlock Root before we could get anything useful out of him." Primer's eyes widened at the cursing her uncle unleashed at that. Harley shook her head defeated. "Carbine's gonna take his body back to Army Headquarters to report the assassination attempt."

"Then we need to get some samples from his body before she leaves. They may not be of much use, but it might help me to figure out how to treat it. Uncle Modo, please grab some Fellonwart and Dewberry and squeeze the sap into those test tubes." Harley nodded before taking Vinnie's hand and dragging him out the room, asking him to collect the blood samples from Charley while she went to Tynan.

Primer sighed as she placed the scissors down. When Uncle Modo had answered their call with Stoker, she could have sworn her heart had sunk into the depths of her stomach. Hearing that it was Charley who was in danger made the feeling ten times worse. She bit her lip as she glanced at her uncle, who had turned his back to her to complete her request.

She felt awful keeping a secret from her family. But Charley was right. Her mere presence on Mars was already changing things, if she compared them to the memories Charley had shared with her. She certainly didn't think that she would have ever had the guts to try and create an antidote to the deadliest poison on all of Mars if she hadn't met the woman. Heck, even VINNIE had simmered down since her arrival and THAT was an honest to Gods miracle.

Primer might not know the future, but she did know that Charley's presence in it made the bros happy, both now and in the years to come. That was why when she realized Charley still held on, she jumped at the chance to help.

She might not be a time-traveler from the future, but she was going to do her damned best to make sure Charley could succeed in her self-assigned mission.

Stoker lingered outside the room, steeling himself for what lay inside. Opening the door, his gaze perused the contents of the room, ears twitching at the rhythmic beeping from the monitors, and the hissing of the ventilator. The sight of Charley, so still and pale compared to the life that had shone from her mere hours before, made Stoker's breath hitch. He directed his gaze away from her quickly, desperately swallowing the lump in his throat before focusing on the only other occupant in the room, who had yet to acknowledge his presence. Throttle sat in a chair next to the bed, head bowed, and eyes closed as if in prayer. His specs, bandana and ascot were on the bedside table next to the cot, combat vest and bandolier slung over the back of the chair. Stoker took a breath before audibly closing the door to announce his arrival. Throttle eyes opened and he turned to the door.

"Stoker, what happened?" Stoker sighed in defeat as he moved closer to the tan mouse, grabbing the only other chair in the room with his tail and placing it near the end of the cot. He sat down heavily and rubbed at his eyes.

"Tynan's dead."

"And you were worried about what I would do to him?"

"It wasn't us. He took Berlock Root." He announced plainly. No point in beating around the bush with this kid.

"Dammit," Throttle growled low under his breath, "I'm guessing he took it before he could make himself useful?" he added in a spiteful tone. One Stoker couldn't help but wince at.

"Afraid so." He replied. They fell into silence once more, the heart monitor and the ventilator providing the only noise in the room. Stoker avoiding looking at either Threemane siblings, knowing he would likely lose his composure if he tried.

"This is all my fault."

The statement was barely loud enough for him to hear, but Stoker's head whipped towards the young mouse.

"What?" Throttle turned to him, tears streaming down his face as he tried (in vain) to wipe them away.

"It's my fault Charley is a target. If I had… When the Council was here, I should have spoken up but… I was frozen! And then, instead of being there for her like I should have, I acted like a jerk and ignored her. She was doing it for me, and I left her alone! If Mom were still here…" His voice broke and he paused in his tearful confession, gasping for breath as he leaned back in his chair, hands covering his face. Stoker sat silently as the young mouse regained control of his breathing, sniffing everyone and then as his hands dropped back into his lap. "I just…. I don't know how to protect her, Coach."

"Throttle, this isn't about protecting her. All she wants to do is be there for you." Stoker leaned forward trying to place a reassuring hand on the mouse, but he twisted away turning back to the cot.

"But it's not fair Stoker! She shouldn't be in a position like this in the first place." He drew his fingers through his hair, pulling hard before letting go suddenly. "I should just leave. Charley and I should just leave and never come back." Stoker leaned back in the chair, glancing at the lump in the bed that was Charley's feet.

"I offered her that already, kid." He admitted. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Throttle turn wildly back to him.

"You what?"

"Yesterday. I took Charley out to Fair Grove to try and talk to her… Well, more like dragged her there honestly, with Comet's help." He couldn't repress the guilty smirk. "I told her I could get both of you to Earth using my contacts in the Army. She refused." Stoker gave half a shrug. Throttle glanced at his sister and back to the General (much later he would look back and realize that Stoker had been holding back on the true extent of the Fair Grove talk) and shook his head.

"You couldn't convince her? ORDER her to leave?" Stoker scoffed and gave the boy a look.

"Pretty sure she would feed me to the Sabersquids if I tried." Throttle couldn't help the weak laugh that bubbled up inside him.

"Yeah, that sounds about right."

They sat in weary silence for a moment more, before Stoker rose from the chair and place a hand on Throttle's shoulder.

"I know you worry for her. I do too. But she's not going to change her mind about this. So rather than have her sit on the side and hate us, we can decide to help her become stronger." Throttle didn't respond, so Stoker gave his shoulder a pat and left the room.

Only once he was in the privacy of his bunk did he allow his breathing to turn shaky and for the silent tears to roll down his cheeks.

Charley awoke to the sensation of floating. Her eyes couldn't seem to make out anything beyond blurred shapes, and her ears kept ringing though every now and then, she thought she could make out someone's voice…whose? She couldn't seem to recall. She knew she was somewhere with someone important…Mice? On motorcycles?

At the thought, she heard the rumble of an engine. She cringed.

'That sounds like a busted gyro.'

Her eyes opened (when had she closed them?) and she registered the asphalt on her back, looking up at a white sky (It's supposed to be red… or maybe blue?) She slowly sat up, taking in the white apartment buildings surrounding her. She knew this place. It felt like…home...and yet it wasn't. The engine sound cut off, and she turned her head to see the only nonwhite building on the street. With light olive and steel grey walls and large sign that read…

"The Last Chance? I'm…back on Earth?" her voice sounded weird. Echo-y…that wasn't right either.

One of the garage doors stood open, and she could hear someone whistling inside. It was the chorus of Sweet Caroline by Neil Diamond. Charley's breath hitched. There was only one man that she knew that could whistle that song so off-key. She gradually got to her feet (her legs felt like jelly), and cautiously approach the garage. Leaning against the wall, she saw familiar sight of her workspace back on Earth, taking in all of the little details. A whistle from the side caught her attention, and she turned her wide eyes to the man standing by the table, whistling cheerfully and off-key as he used a rag to clean a wrench. Dressed in jeans forever stained by grease, his dark grey Neil Diamond shirt barely protected by the blue work vest, and shoulder length auburn hair streaked with grey pulled back into a low ponytail. The man placed the tool back on the table, using the same rag to wipe off his hands as he turned to face her. He had a stubble beard covering his strong jawline, and his vibrant, emerald-green eyes shone with pride as he looked her over, smiling broadly.

"Hey there Cyclone. You still working on taking apart those engines?" His baritone voice was just as she remembered it, and her eyes began to sting.

"Uncle Jake?" she asked timidly. Jacob Davidson's smile turned bittersweet as he held his arms open, dropping the rag back on the table. Charley needed no further encouragement as she rushed into his arms, clinging him to like a child as she bawled her eyes out.

"Oh sweetie." She heard him soothe her, felt him pressing soft kisses to her temple. She relished in it all, having missed the man she saw as her father since his passing eight years before. Her sobs slowly turned to hiccups as Jacob held her, softly petting her hair. The shoulder she had rested her head on was now wet with tears and snot, but frankly she didn't give a damn.

"I've missed you so much." She whimpered, fresh tears threatening to fall. She felt her uncle's arms tighten ever so slightly around her.

"I missed you too." He replied. Charley buried her face into his neck, breathing in his scent. Grease, motor oil and his favored cologne. God, she hadn't smelt this in years.

"I'm dead, aren't I?" she whispered. She felt him pulling back from the hug and lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him. His face was streaked with tears (when had he started crying?) and he shook his head.

"No. No not yet, honey. You're not ready yet." He replied softly. Charley frowned.

"Not ready? What do you mean? Isn't this the…you know?" She gestured around them. Jacob glanced around at their surroundings.

"This? This is a crossroads, Cyclone. You decide where to go from here." He explained patiently. Charley was even more confused now.

"How…what am I supposed to decide?" she asked stepping back from the hug more and shrugging.

"Whether you want to let go or carry on fighting."

"What's the point in fighting, Uncle Jake? It didn't help you." She ended sourly, wrapping her arms around herself and turning away. She heard him sigh behind her.

"Cyclone honey… I fought for as long as I could, so that I could let go knowing you were ready." She whirled back, an outraged look on her face.

"But I wasn't ready! I wasn't ready for you to leave! You left me alone!" She shouted at him. Jacob held the bittersweet smile as he approached her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"We're never ready to see the ones we love go, Cyclone. But I knew you were ready to survive without me. You were strong, you were smart, and you were ready to live your life for yourself. My only regret was that I made you believe you had to keep running that garage for me." Charley's felt the rage leave her in an instant as she wrapped her uncle in a hug once more.

"I couldn't just let it go. The Last Chance was your life."

"Exactly. The Last Chance was my life. It was never meant to be yours." He gave her a squeeze before stepping back again. "You didn't start living your life until those bros showed up on your doorstep. And right now…those bros need you. They aren't ready to live without you yet. And I know that you're not ready to leave them." Charley bowed her head, before feeling her uncle lift her face up to look at her. His eyes shone with tears as he wiped of hers with his thumb.

"Oh, baby girl. You look just like your mother." Charley giggled at that, turning to glance at the door on the other side of the workshop, leading to the living space. The small window revealed the glowing light beyond it.

"Is mom here, too?" She asked. Jacob followed her gaze and smirked.

"Which one?" Charley gasped.

"Amelia's here too?"

"She is, and let me tell you, that doe was spouting for hours about how proud she was of her new daughter. And how grateful she is that someone will finally help keep her boy in line when she's not around." They both chuckled at that, before Jacob sighed.

"They're willing to wait for you until you're ready." Charley nodded and allowed her uncle to steer her back towards the entrance of the garage, where a deep black void was encroaching on the garage. Jacob noticed her hesitation. "I know it looks scary, but you can make it, honey." Charley gave one last glance back towards the door.

"Will you tell them I love them?" she asked. Jacob smiled heartwarmingly.

"They know." He stopped at the edge of the garage door, offering once last hug, which she eagerly accepted. "I love you, Cyclone."

"I love you too, Uncle Jake." She held on for as long as she could before she felt him pull back and smile one last time, before gently shoving her into the darkness.

And there we go!

I think (well, hope anyway) that this chapter was the one that stumped me the longest, because I pretty much know exactly what I want to happen from here on out.

Please Review!