So, I've decided that I'll only be writing about the moments in between episodes, with the exception of a few where my AU have absolutely changed things in some way.

In other news...enjoy emotionally traumatized Throttle trying to deal with his emotions and failing.

Planet: Earth

Location: The Last Chance Garage, Chicago, Illinois

Time: 14th June 1992

Throttle wanted to run.

He was standing only a few feet from her. If he took two steps and reached out, he could envelop her in a hug and never let go. But he couldn't.

Because she didn't know him.

And it was so hard not to say anything, watching her patch up their bikes like the old days.

Even though, for her, it's the first time…

"And… there! That oughta do it!" Charley announced triumphantly with the twist of the wrench, pulling Throttle from his thoughts. He cleared his throat to get rid of the lump that had formed there.

"Not bad. You're a pretty good bike jockey." He complimented her as she stood.

"Best in Chi-town." She replied, and oh man, did it hurt hearing her say that. His mind pulled the exact same scene nearly a decade ago, in the Freedom Fighter headquarters. He shook himself and school his features as she turned towards him to place her tools back on the table. "By the way, your weapons looked like they could use a little improvement, so I put in a few extras."

Vinnie raised a brow, curious. "Extras?"

"Like what?" Throttle spun to see Modo bend over Sweethearts console and push a button before anyone could stop him. The sides of Sweetheart's fairing dropped down to reveal two mini-missiles (WHERE DID SHE GET THOSE?) that launched themselves through the closed garage door. Modo flinched in horror at the brand new hole in the door. "Oh momma! I am so sorry, Charley-ma'am. I'll fix it." He stammered as Charley moved towards the door, gentle smile in place.

"It's ok, Modo. I probably should've warned you guys the new weapons pack quite a punch." She stepped closer to the new hole, climbing through it. "I'd better go out and get those back before they fall into the wrong hands." Throttle watched as she stepped out, before being suddenly snatched to the side. He did not waste a second as he raced to the front door, nearly breaking it off its hinges as he stormed outside, Modo and Vinnie close behind.

It was the goon from before, and he had his greasy hands on his sister. One of her arms was pulled behind her back at an uncomfortable angle, while her mouth was covered with his other hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted what he could only describe as a snap trap with spikes. He snarled at the goon, who had no doubt been planning to use Charley as bait. He whistled sharply, and the bikes sprang to life, blasting through the window and surrounding the goon, weapons drawn.

"Let her go, oil breath." He barked, pulling his own weapon out, hearing Vinnie and Modo do the same. Seeing his plan go down the drain, the goon pulls out his own gun, and places it directly against Charley's temple. Throttle freezes.

"Yous touch me, and her head goes boom." The man grumbles. Throttle can't react. He's faced with the sight of losing his sister all over again. Suddenly the man yowls and pulls his hand away from Charley's face, her mouth now covered in grease. She ducks forward, twisting as far as she can with her other arm still in his grip and kicks him hard in the shin. He yelps and releases, holding his shin with both hands as he hops up and down. Charley stumbles back and Throttle drops his gun as he races to steady her.

Unprompted, Lady slings her cable around the goon and pulls him to the ground. His bike was as protective of Charley as he was it seemed.

He and the bros get on the bikes, and focus their headlights on the prone man.

"Hey! Three against one ain't fair!" the man called out, and Throttle barely contained the growl in his throat.

"Now you listen up, oil breath. You just take a message back to your boss for us."

"What message?" … How dim is this guy?

"You tell him the Biker Mice from Mars are in town, and the party's over. You got that?" He pointed a finger at the man's nose.

"Uh, yeah, I think so."

"Good." Vinnie chimed, "Now it's time to go." Modo revved Lil'Hoss' engine in anticipation.

"Hey, like they say back at Wrigley Field, Batter Up!" He called as he scooped the man up by his restraints, driving off. Throttle followed behind as Vinnie commented.

"Here's the wind up!"

"And the pitch!" Modo cried as he tossed the man Throttle's way. Throttle activated his Nuke-Knucks and landed a solid blow, watching the man fly off into the night, once again shouting something about a Mister Limburger. Throttle glared for a moment more before the sound of someone spitting makes him turn. Charley is standing where he left her, spitting out the gruel in her mouth.

"Gross. Remind me never to bite him again." She mutters, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Throttle practically launches himself from Lady's seat as he rushed to her, his trembling hands holding her still as he checks her over thoroughly.

"Are you ok? Did he hurt you?" he asks rapidly, barely keeping the tremor out of his voice.

"I'm…I'm ok." Her soft yet confused voice makes him look up. Charley is watching him with wide yet bewildered eyes, and Throttle quickly steps back, letting her go. He flexes his hands, unsure what to do with himself until she mutters under her breath. "Never thought he be that bold though."

His head shots back to her. "What do you mean?" For the first time in years, he watches as nerves claim Charley. She looks away, arms crossing over her chest as she seems to huddle in on herself. Her fingers twitch against her arms as she bites her lip. Throttle glances at his bros, who both recognize the look. "Charley? Has something like this happened before?"

"Not…not to this extent, no." she admits softly. "Just… ever since Limburger's been after the garage it's been…" Charley bit her lip and looked away. "I thought it was coincidence at first. After I turned Limburger down the first time, somethings started happening. Phone calls late at night, cars following me home from the store. There's…even been times where someone will come pounding on my door in the middle of the night."

Throttle's hands curled into a fists as she spoke. The very idea that his sister was being threatened made his blood boil.

"Where is this Limburger guy?"

Turns out, Lawrence Limburger was actually a Plutarkian in disguise. And if that wasn't bad enough, he had Karbunkle working for him. After taking care of the X-Terminator, and having to skip out on taking care of Limburger, they returned to the garage to inform Charley of the issue. She had been shocked to discover that the man harassing her was in fact an alien, but noted that it did explain the rotten fish smell that often followed Limburger.

Thus, they found themselves back at Wrigley Field, looking at the remains of the Thunderpipe that stuck out of the Scoreboard.

"It's gonna take a long time to mend that mangled mess of metal." Just as Throttle said this, the Thunderpipe crumpled even further and vanished within the scoreboard. Throttle groaned and face palmed. "Typical. Just great."

"Well if you're stuck here on Earth, this place will make as good a hideout as any." Throttle raised his brow at the smiling Charley, gesturing to the scoreboard.

"What, here? In the Scoreboard?" he asked, chuckling slightly at the suggestion.

"Why not?" Charley replied, "Limburger and his grease-goons would never think to look for you here."

Throttle shared a look with his bros, pondering her point before finally agreeing.

"As much as I'd like to say we've got the bachelor pad thing going…it ain't exactly in a livable state right now." Vinnie pointed out. Charley shrugged.

"You guys can crash at my place for a few days. They should have it fixed by then. Of course, we may need to hide the evidence of aliens on Earth." Charley added as she gazed pointedly at the bros rodent features. Said bros were glancing at each other nervously.

"Are… are you sure, Charley-ma'am? We wouldn't wanna impose…" Modo mumbled, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"There's no imposing if I'm offering, Modo."

Thus, here he was, several hours later, camped out on a cot in Charley's living room. Vinnie had claimed the couch, being the only one of them that actually fit on the thing. Charley had pulled out a spare mattress from the attic for Modo, whose feet were still hanging off it. Both mice had fallen asleep hours ago, snoring away. But Throttle hadn't been able to find that same peace.

He rubbed at his face and sat up, throwing the blankets off. He froze at the squeaking of the cot, glancing at the sleeping forms of his bros. Vinnie remained dead to the world while Modo snorted and turned over. He let out a silent sigh and stood, grabbing his specs off the floor and slipping them on, glancing at the clock on the wall in the dim light. It read 2:30 AM. Throttle shook his head and headed for the kitchen, figuring that he could have a small snack before trying to fall asleep again. He paused when he noticed the light was on in the kitchen. As he entered the doorway, he noticed Charley sitting by the table, dressed in a light purple shirt and white sweatpants, holding what looked like a bottle of beer. She took a swig from it before noticing him.

"Hey, can't sleep?" She asked softly, as if she were somehow aware of the other sleeping occupants. Although, she likely just heard they're thundering snores echoing through the house. Throttle became acutely aware of the fact that he was only dressed in his jeans and socks, having taken off his vest and boots before bed.

"Um… I just, uh, thought I'd have a snack…" he added lamely, before glancing at the bottle in her hand. "Why are you still up?" Charley took another, longer swig from the bottle, making Throttle raise his eyebrows.

"I was physically threatened by the guy that's been harassing me for months. Got saved by three giant mice. Said giant mice then saved me again. And then I find out there are aliens out in the universe and they are now on Earth. Plus, the aforementioned three giant mice are camping out in my living room. That's a bit much for a Tuesday night." Throttle winces.

"We can still leave, if you're uncomfortable—"

"Nope, don't you even dare." Charley cut him off. "I offered for you all to stay. This is just to help calm my nerves." She added with a smile, before standing and opening the fridge, grabbing two more beers. "I know you said you wanted a snack, but would you like to join me instead? I can't imagine you've had much time to process the last couple of hours yourself." She opened both bottles and passed one to him as she took her seat.

Throttle gingerly took the bottle from her and gave it a cautionary sniff. The smell hit him, and immediately brought back memories of his evenings spent with Stoker. He thought it over for a second. Surely a couple of drinks with Charley wouldn't hurt. He flung caution to the wind and downed about two thirds of it in one go. He shook his head a little as he sat down at the table.

Charley's eyes were wide. "Dang. You really needed that, didn't you?"

"You have no idea." He groaned, rubbing at his eyes with one hand while holding the bottle loosely in the other. "Crashing here, on Earth, was not part of the plan. We should've been back home by now." He took a third swing from the bottle, finishing it off. Without a word, Charley offered him her untouched bottle, which he took. "And with the Thunderpipe outta commission, we can't even send out a message telling the folks back home where we are. I can't imagine how Vinnie must be feeling now."

"He mentioned a wife. Is he really married?" Throttle laughed at her skeptical expression.

"Yup. Her name is Harley. They got married 2 years ago, after being together for 5 years." He took another, smaller swig before continuing. "Believe me, we were as shocked as you when those two tied the knot."

"How come?" she asked gently crossing her legs and leaning forward a little. Throttle chuckled.

"You've met him. He was so awkward around her when they first started dating. If it weren't for Ch—" He stopped, looking down at the bottle in his hand. He could feel the knot in his throat tightening and his eyes stung. He stood abruptly, making Charley jump as he slammed the bottle down on the table. "I should let you go to bed. Sorry for bothering you." He fled the kitchen, leaving a confused Charley behind. He practically dove into the cot once more, hiding under the blankets just in time as the tears streamed down his face.

He cried himself to sleep, for what felt like the thousandth time since she died.

...yeah, somehow, Throttle became the most sad boi ever, and Vinnie turned into the most mentally stable (mostly) of the three bros...

How that even happened, I do not know...