Helloooo!

Whoa, quick update!
You guys won't even believe me when I say how on fire I was the last days, it was crazy.

Anyhoo, thanks for the reviews on the previous chapter!
Glad to hear you liked it.

And now, without further ado, chapter 23.
Enjoy and please, let me know what you thought of it once you're done reading, really means the world to me.

Till next time, my friends.
Later!

PS: I made an Instagram account (vlaatjeDOTbmfm - the DOT is really just a dot but this damn site won't let me just type the damn name like it is. You can find it in my profile as well) for those who wish to receive updates/sneak peeks about my writing.
I sort of miss a place where I can inform you guys all at once about the status of my writing process, so that's why I came up with this idea.
Oh, and I also plan on sharing my bmfm fan art there, although lately, I don't draw that very often.
Either way, feel free to hit that follow button if you don't wanna miss out or want to contact me personally.
Ciao!


Chapter 23

The last word hadn't left Vinnie's mouth or Throttle and Modo rushed over to him.
With almost squeaking shoes, they both came to a halt next to the table Charley lay on, and Modo reached out his hand to check her pulse.
It wasn't that he didn't believe his little brother, but he just needed to feel it for himself.
Not only because this was another turn he didn't see coming and was therefore very hard to fully process but also because he needed to know everything there was to know about Charley's pulse.
Was it strong, or weak?
Quick, or slow?

While he was doing that, he lifted his tail and held it under her nose.
Soon thereafter, he could feel a soft wind going through the teeny-tiny hairs, telling him that she was still breathing as well.
It was very shallow, so that's why it was hardly visible to the naked eye, but it was there, and that was all that mattered.
Her pulse, however, was worrying.
It was irregular and weak, and his gaze wandered over the cut in her belly, his cheeks slightly burning when he noticed how scantily she was dressed but he managed to get that out of his head.
All that mattered now was to make sure she would leave this room alive, and thus, he leaned a little closer to take a good look at the wound.

Yes, it was deep, but apparently, it wasn't deep enough to immediately kill her, which made him come to the conclusion that they had been right on time to stop the man from doing further harm.
However, if he had to guess, she had been conscious when the killer made the cut.
The brutal pain must have knocked her out, which explained why Vinnie suddenly lost contact with her.
A shiver ran down his spine as he now fully realized what gruesome horror she had been forced to endure, but he quickly shook it off and he straightened his back to look at Vinnie.
"She has lost a lot of blood. We need to put pressure on that wound to make sure she won't lose more. Any drop is one too many."

Vinnie nodded, his ears flapping along.
"Okay. Okay. Okay", he mumbled as he already searched for something he could use to cover the wound.
Suddenly, someone handed him a blue towel, and he looked up, straight into Throttle's friendly face.
"This oughta do it."
Again, Vinnie nodded.
In fact, he just kept nodding, kind of like those bobbleheads Earthers liked to decorate their car with, as if he couldn't believe that this was really happening.
That she was really still alive.
Well, Throttle supposed no one could blame him.
The plot twists in this chapter of their story gave him a whiplash, too.

With his hands shaking almost uncontrollably, Vinnie laid the towel on Charley's stomach, but then he seemed to be lost at what to do next, and he looked up at Modo almost pleadingly.
Modo flashed him a warm smile as he gently rested his hands on Vinnie's before he applied the exact amount of pressure.
"Keep holding it like this."
Still nodding, Vinnie bit his lower lip as he focussed on keeping the pressure even, and Modo pulled back his hands, only to turn around and look at Throttle more
seriously than ever.
"She needs a doctor and she needs it now. Given her current condition, driving her to the hospital ourselves is outta the question, so please tell me you have a plan."

Throttle rubbed his chin, but before he could say something, O'Neill cleared his throat.
"We stick to the original plan."
Modo's jaw slightly tightened, and he glanced at O'Neill from the corner of his eye, who was still sitting on the floor with his back resting against the wall.
"And that means…?"
"It means that I'll call the cavalry and get Charley the help she needs. All you have to do is get the hell outta here before they arrive", the detective explained with a pained expression on his face as he was still holding his shoulder to stop the bleeding from getting worse.

That took Vinnie's attention, and he looked up with a jerk, his red eyes burning.
"No. I won't leave her."
"You don't have a choice, kiddo, unless they have visiting hours at Area 51 which I highly doubt."
Vinnie's eyes darkened as he gnashed his teeth in severe annoyance.
"What does that even mean?"
"It means that if you ever wanna see her again, if you want things to go back to the way they were before this all happened, you need to leave."

A muscle close to Vinnie's nose twitched, making the right part of his upper lip slightly tremble in the eeriest way possible as he now, instead of nodding, violently shook his head.
"No. Over my dead body."
"That's exactly what will happen if you stay here, boy. Area 51 is more like the best of the worst scenarios that can happen when they find out about you", O'Neill snapped at him, not really in the mood to have this discussion.
God knew he had to be a little more patient, or at least more sympathetic as the poor mouse was obviously having a very rough day, but that never really had been his thing, plus, he himself wasn't really having the best day either.
Truth be told, 'taking one for the team' only made him even crankier than usual, so Vinnie better took it down a notch before he would help him take one for the team as well.

While making sure he kept the pressure on Charley's wound even, Vinnie took a very deep breath, but right before he could spit out the stream of all the swear words he knew in both English and Martian, Throttle stopped him by resting a hand on his lower arm.
"Vinnie, I get it, I really do, but despite everything, we still need to look at the bigger picture. O'Neill will handle this, and I promise you that you will see Charley again. I'll make sure of it, but right now, we need to go. We're wasting precious time, time Charley doesn't have."
When he saw that Vinnie still wasn't entirely convinced, he gently squeezed his arm.
"You wanna help her? Then trust O'Neill. He'll make your plan work. It's the only way."
Vinnie stared at Throttle's hand resting on his blood-stained fur, and his lower lip started to shake.
"But what if…"
what if she dies alone?

Although he didn't say the words out loud, both Throttle and Modo perfectly understood why it was so hard for him to leave her behind, and Modo now rested his bionic hand on Vinnie's other arm.
"Sometimes, you just gotta have a little faith. Charley's a fighter. She'll pull through. I just know she will."
Vinnie's eyebrows switched to a position that made him look so profoundly sad, and he took a shaky breath as his red eyes wandered over Charley's pale face.
Gods, he really didn't want to leave her side.
Even though he knew that his bros were right, it just felt so plain wrong to leave her here, all alone, in this scary room where she had suffered so much.
The thought alone made him sick to the stomach, and tears rose to his eyes.
"I just… I just don't want her to be alone…"

Both Modo and Throttle swallowed with difficulty when they heard Vinnie's small-sounding voice, they just weren't used to seeing their baby bro this vulnerable as it didn't happen so often.
As it turned out, they weren't the only ones touched by this display for he even managed to stir something in the usual stoic detective.
"Okay, fine. You can stay while we wait for the cavalry to arrive. That'll give you about five to ten minutes, okay? Jeez", O'Neill muttered under his breath while rolling his eyes, but when Throttle glanced at him, he could've sworn that O'Neill's eyes were a bit more watery than usual, and he quickly bowed his head to hide the little smile that now curled his lips.
So the man wasn't entirely dead inside after all.
Of course, deep down he knew that he wasn't, he wouldn't be able to work with him if he was, but it was still some sort of entertaining to witness that even O'Neill had emotions.
Modo gently pushed Vinnie's hands aside to take over, all to give his young bro room for whatever he wanted to do with the time that was given to him and Vinnie flashed him a grateful look while his hands made their way over to the leather straps that were still around Charley's wrists and ankles.

"DO NOT UNTIE HER!"

O'Neill's sudden bark even startled the usually rather intrepid Vinnie, and he let out a soft squeak as he pulled his hands back as if the bounds just ignited before he looked at the detective with his red eyes wide open.
"Excuse me?"
"Don't untie her", O'Neill repeated a little softer yet still sharply as he reached for the phone in his jacket.
It was such a simple movement, or well, it would have been if it weren't for the gunshot wound in his shoulder, and once he had the phone in his hand, he already needed a little moment to recover from this major effort.
A moment he used to further explain himself, as Vinnie was still gawking at him.
"If we want this plan to work, this place has to look like you have never been here. So don't touch anything. Don't leave footprints in the blood on the floor. Above all, don't leave hairs or bloody fingerprints on Charley's bounds."

Vinnie raised his hand.
"We don't have fingerprints", and he wiggled his fingers to strengthen his words, referring to the hairs covering his fingertips, but O'Neill shook his head.
"We oughta be careful is all I'm saying."
With a little effort, he managed to dial the one number that would get them the help they needed, and after giving them all three a deadly glare to let them know that they for once needed to be as quiet as mice, he put the phone to his ear.

'911, what's your emergency?'

"This is Detective O'Neill from Chicago PD, badge number 45601. I need immediate medical assistance on a crime scene in the South Shore Nature Sanctuary. One unconscious pregnant woman bleeding out due to sharp force injury, one casualty, and one officer down. You need to ping my exact location via my phone, since I have no idea where I am exactly."

'Stay calm, Detective. Help is on its way.'

O'Neill rested his head against the wall, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he stayed on the line just in case.
What a day.
What a fucked up day.

Please, don't die.
Please, don't die.
Please, don't die.

Those three words kept repeating over and over in Vinnie's head as he sat there, feeling utterly helpless and not able to take his gaze away from Charley's half-open eyes.
All he wanted was to untie her, take her in his arms, and hold her till the end of time.
All so she could wake up feeling safe and secure, knowing his arms were her shelter whenever the world hurt too much.
But he couldn't.
All he could do was sit there and do nothing.
He hated doing nothing, but what choice did he have?
He couldn't help her.
He had done the best he could by ending the man who did this to her.

And, apparently, he had done that with great timing as Modo had told him that if it wasn't for him bursting inside, Charley would have been dead by now.
So yeah, it was probably safe to say that he had saved her.
If only that conclusion would make him able to breathe, but it hardly didn't.
Sure, there was this small sense of relief swimming in the pool of emotions inside of him, but it was fear that prevailed still.
She wasn't out of the woods just yet, and thus he wasn't either.
If she died…
…it would be his fault and his fault alone.
If she died, he could add another failure to the list that was already too long for his taste.

Gods, Charley.
If only you would wake up and tell me that everything is going to be okay…

If only there was a way to comfort her, even though she wasn't even conscious.
But he just so desperately wished that he somehow could let her know that he was here.
That she wasn't alone.
That he wanted her to fight so that they could be together for the rest of their hopefully long lives.
While the train of thoughts hurtled on and on, his gaze wandered down to her belly, but for a reason that was unknown to him, he didn't see Modo's hands holding the towel.
In fact, it felt like he was caught in some sort of bubble, one where only he and Charley existed.
The dead babies in glass jars on the shelves behind him, the scary vibe sensible in the room, O'Neill, his bros, the dead body of the man responsible for all this, even the baby, it all vanished to the background.
For now, it was only her and him.
Him and her.
Just like it was supposed to be.

Almost in slow motion, he raised his right hand, and he looked at the blood on his fingers, coloring his white fur and the bandage that Pux had put around his wrist deep red.
Red had always been his favorite color.
But for the first time in his life, he despised it.
Maybe he should give his bike a paint job once all this was over…
He could ask Charley what her favorite color was.
Maybe it could be his new favorite color as well.
If only she would wake up…

Please, Charley.
Just wake up.

As his breathing became a tad bit heavier, he gradually reached out his hand to her and while he was doing that, his red eyes darted back to her face.
Her beautiful face.
Even now, with the blood drained from her cheeks and those creepy-looking eyes, giving her a somewhat zombie-ish appearance, she was still so marvelously beautiful.
All because he loved her.
And she loved him.
Without thinking, he took a shaky breath before opening his mouth.

"You are my sunshine… My only sunshine…"

Truth be told, singing had never really been his strong suit.
Today was no different.
His voice sounded raspy and unsteady, even more than usual.
Maybe that was because he more like whispered the words instead of actually singing them.
Or maybe it had something to do with this gnawing fear squeezing his throat rather ruthlessly.
It didn't really matter, actually.
All that mattered to him was that she knew he was here.
That there was nothing he wouldn't do for her, and yes, that even included singing a song that was like the definition of mushy.

"You make me happy…when skies are gray…"

He knew that if she would be awake, she would have asked him how in the world he knew a song that was A; this sugary melodramatic, B; didn't even have guitars in it, or well, not the shrieking kind of guitars he usually liked to listen to, and C; not even coming from Mars but from Earth.
He would have told her that his mother used to sing this song to him whenever he was scared or upset.
That she once heard it on the radio, and that she had been obsessed with it ever since.
That he didn't care that it was mushy, sugary melodramatic, and didn't have shrieking guitars in it.
That the song had been a common thread throughout his entire childhood, and no matter how many times his mother sang it to him, he never grew tired of it.
That it always had the same effect on him - comforting and soothing.
It made him feel safe, and he could only hope it would have this very same effect on Charley, that is if she was able to hear him in the first place, but he liked to believe that she did.

"You'll never know, dear…how much I love you…"

After lingering in the air for a brief moment, his hand lowered before his fingers made contact with her forehead, and again, he was kind of surprised by feeling the warmth she radiated.
She still looked so… dead.
But she wasn't.
Only scarred, both physically and mentally.
He wasn't stupid.
He knew that if she, by some miracle, would survive this, she was never going to be the same again.
Whoever would open her eyes to see the light of day after being caught in such scary and traumatizing darkness would not be his Charley.
Not really, that is.

But that was okay.
He wasn't the same mouse he used to be either.
He was scarred, too.
Half-broken, even, maybe.
They could be scarred together, and make each other feel whole-ish again.
Shit, he just needed her…
so, so badly.
She gave his life purpose, lightening up his dark mind with her sparkling energy.
He couldn't lose her.
He just couldn't.
While a tear wormed its way through his eyelids, he gently wiped a strand of her slightly damp auburn-colored hair out of her face.

"Please don't take my sunshine away…"

His voice broke, and as another tear left his eye, he rested his forehead against her warm cheek.
"Please, Charley… Don't die. Fight. Fight, and come back to me… I need you…"
His antennae started to glow, bathing the room in a soft bluish light as he tried to connect with her once again, but there was nothing but darkness.
He did sense her though, but it was like she was miles apart from him.
The darkness had pulled her too far down for him to be able to really reach her.
And so all he could do was beg.
Beg whoever ran destiny to bring her back to him.
To not take his sunshine away and envelope him in darkness.
For without her light, all he was was a straying mouse scared of the dark.

The sound of sirens in the distance broke the loaded silence that lingered in the room, and O'Neill took a deep breath before he hoisted himself back to his feet with a grunt.
"You guys need to leave."
Still holding his shoulder, he stumbled toward the table whilst Vinnie, although with reluctance, opened his eyes.
Gone was the bubble.
Gone was the moment.
Back was the nightmare that was reality.
Fuck, he really didn't want to leave her here, and he glanced up at Throttle with a mix of hope and dread swimming in his red eyes.
One last attempt…

But all Throttle did was shake his head, and while letting out his breath, Vinnie lowered his gaze.
"I'll see you soon, sweetheart. Just keep fighting. Don't give up", and he pressed a soft kiss on her cheek before he straightened his back as the first step of standing up.
Shit, this was probably one of the hardest things he had ever done in his life, and that was saying something considering he had spent most of his life on the battlefield risking his life.
Knowing all too well how hard this was for him, Throttle rested his hand on his shoulder for moral support as he looked down at Charley.
"Stay strong, Charley. Help is on the way", and he used his other hand to squeeze her hand.
"Until we meet again", he added noiselessly, hoping that moment would come.
Despite their rough start, this little human had definitely grown on him.
She was like the sister he did have but lost in the war, and thus, it would break his heart if he would lose her, too.
However, the thing that feared him the most was what it would do to Vinnie if she died for real this time.
Not wanting to go down that road, he shook his head almost invisibly as he gently started to guide Vinnie toward the door.

In the meantime, O'Neill pushed Modo aside to take over the job that was not letting Charley bleed out, and Modo's bionic fingers gently brushed her shoulder.
"Hang in there, Charley ma'am. We'll see you soon."
"Make sure you don't leave a trail. They can't know you were here", O'Neill warned them one last time as the mice walked through the door, and Throttle only raised his hand to let him know that he got the message.
O'Neill focussed his attention back on his hands pressing on the wound, trying very hard to ignore the vicious pain in his shoulder.
"I'll call you as soon as I can", he mumbled, shaking his head.
Holy shit, what a mess.
He could only hope that Vinnie's plan would work.
Well, he supposed that was up to him now.
And it was just like he said.
He would make it work, no matter what.
Chicago, Charley, and the mice depended on him, and he wasn't planning on failing his beloved city or his friends.
He didn't do failure.
He'd rather die.

Meanwhile, at the last Chance Garage, Pux almost climbed the walls.
She had cleaned the entire garage, she had done the entire administration, and still, she hadn't heard from the mice.
They were gone for almost two hours, and she had run out of distractions.
While pacing back and forth, her blue eyes darted over to the CB like they had done a million times now as she kept asking herself if she perhaps should give them a call.
But what if they were busy?
What if they made a mistake because they got distracted by her call, a mistake that would cost Charley her life?
"Goddammit", she murmured as she ran a hand through her blonde curls, clueless as to what to do with herself.
Not knowing was killing her, and it was then that she made a decision.
"Fuck this", and she marched over to the CB.

"Throttle, come in."

As expected, there was only static at first, and Pux wrapped the cord of the transmitter around her finger, almost exploding out of her skin in impatience.
She hated that they had sidelined her.
She did understand why, but she still hated it.
Didn't they know that FOMO was a real thing?
Jeez.
But it wasn't just the fear of missing out.
She really was beyond worried about Charley.
It was that same worry that made her push the button of the transmitter again without giving the mice a reasonable amount of time to respond.

"Throttle, this ain't the time to ignore the annoying infant."

Her voice was as sharp as a knife, and she clenched her teeth to stop herself from scolding the unbearable silence that was on the other line, knowing it would be Throttle who would hear it and he would just…
Well, she had no idea what he would do, but it wouldn't be pretty, that she knew.
Still…
Without thinking, she opened her mouth again, but before she could show off with all the swear words she had learned in her rather short life, the speaker came to life.

"Throttle here. Something wrong?"

Pux started at the transmitter in her hand in disbelief, and she almost burst into laughter.
Did he really just ask her that?
As if nothing was going on?
As if this was just another day as usual?
And Charley said he was smart.
However, she also realized that the tone of voice was different than usual.
It wasn't like he sounded as if he was standing on the verge of bursting into tears, but there was definitely something.
Something that gave her goosebumps all over her body, and her eyes darted from the transmitter to the red toolbox on the counter.
Charley's favorite toolbox.
It once belonged to her father, and she took almost better care of it than the bikes that came in, which was saying something as she took her job very seriously.

"Is Charley okay?"

It was actually quite astonishing that she had the balls to ask the question she hardly dared to ask, which was strange, actually, for wasn't that the whole reason why she had called Throttle in the first place?
Well, yeah, but all she wanted to hear was good news.
She wasn't sure if she was ready to hear bad news.
She had no idea what she would do if Throttle would tell her that Charley was gone…

"She's still alive. But Pux, I won't sugarcoat it - it's bad."

Did his voice seriously falter just now?
Panic started to emerge from her stomach, making her insides twist and turn.
Throttle's voice never faltered, and neither did his confidence.
So it had to be really bad.
With her hand shaking almost uncontrollably, Pux held the transmitter a little closer to her mouth.
"What happened?"
Her voice was nothing but a wheezy whisper as fear clawed its way up from her stomach to her gullet, and she swallowed with difficulty in order to get rid of the lump in her throat, which was useless, of course.

"It's too much to explain right now. But she's on her way to the hospital as we speak. All we can do now is hope for the best."

Again, it felt like someone punched her in the stomach, and Pux straightened her back as she now almost put the transmitter into her mouth.
"What do you mean, she's on her way to the hospital?", she breathed quietly, the hand that wasn't holding the radio now taking the edge of the table in a tight grip.

"Like I said, too much to explain. All that matters right now is that she's getting the help she needs."

Of course that was all that mattered right now, Pux couldn't agree more.
But he seemed to forget one major thing.
"And what about the baby?"

"What about it?"

Pux grunted as she lowered the transmitter for a brief moment, rolling her eyes as she couldn't believe the stupidity of these so-called smart creatures.
Was she really the only one seeing the bigger picture here?
Was she really the only one who knew how to use that thing that was called a brain?
And they sidelined her?!
Almost in slow motion, she raised her hand with her blue eyes almost shooting lasers.
"That baby ain't no normal baby, Throttle. What do you think will happen if they do an ultrasound to check if the baby's okay?"
She spoke excessively slowly, almost as if she was talking to someone who wasn't exactly right in the head, which felt surprisingly accurate right now, actually.
"Assuming it's still inside of her, that is", she added flatly, and a long silence followed.

"I never thought of that."

It was all he said, but it was enough.
"Well, then I suppose it's a good thing that I did. I'll handle this."
And without giving him the chance to respond, she slammed the transmitter back in its holder.
Time to initiate plan 'Alien baby'.

You are my sunshine…
my only sunshine.
You make me happy…
when skies are gray.
You'll never know dear…
how much I love you.
Please…
don't take my sunshine away.

She knew that song.
She just didn't recognize the voice that was whispering it into her ears.
She also didn't understand why it was this song that kept echoing through her head while the darkness that surrounded her for something that felt like forever was starting to get less thick.
It was just a song.
One of the many that existed.
It didn't have emotional value to her, and yet, it did now.
But why…?

While the words kept repeating themselves most soothingly, other sounds started to make their way to her brain when the pressure on her ears slowly decreased.
A soft beeping sound.
A distant voice speaking over the intercom, although she couldn't understand a word it was saying.
The sound of footsteps coming and going.
It was all sounds that seemed so misplaced.
This was confusing, to say the least.
Never had she slept so deep that she was hardly able to wake up.
She must have been really tired of working at the garage.
Maybe she should just give in to it.
To the darkness that was still there, ready to consume her once again.
Maybe it was what she needed.

But it somehow felt wrong.
Although she hardly felt her body, there was this pit in her stomach.
One that told her that something was wrong.
She had to wake up.
The moment she realized that, her sense of smell started to work as well.
The air she breathed smelled foul yet clean at the same time, which was strange, actually.
She knew this smell.
She knew she hated it.
But why…?

Hospital.

She was in the hospital.
Or was she…?
The last time she thought she was in the hospital, she turned out to be in a very different place.
A scary place, one where darkness ruled.
Where evil was lurking around every corner.
…or was she…?

Goddammit.

If only she could remember.
If only she understood the vague signals her brain was giving her.

Dead babies.

And then, it suddenly hit her.
She wasn't in the hospital.
She was in a wooden house, in the hands of a killer.
A killer who was about to take her baby.
To just rip it out of her, and her eyes flew open.

"No."

The beeping sound she had heard earlier now accelerated, which only fed her hysteria, and she flew upright with a gasp.
Somewhere, deep down she realized that she was able to move, which was weird, because hadn't she been tied up?
However, it remained just that.
A vague realization.
She had to get out of here.
However, right before she could jump off the cold table the killer had strapped her to after kidnapping her, a hand stopped her.

"Easy, Charley. It's okay. You're in the hospital."

Charley's wide-open green eyes darted down to the hand, only to see that it wasn't gloved.
Even more so, it was small and delicate.
There was even a ring with a butterfly on the index finger.
She knew that ring.
But all she could think of was that the hand wasn't furry, either.
"Vinnie…", she panted, tears filling her eyes as a certain craving came over her the moment she said his name, a craving so strong that it took her breath away.

"He's fine, Charley. He can't be here for obvious reasons, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't want to."

The voice speaking to her sounded so familiar, and breathing heavily, Charley raised her eyes, only to look straight into a pair of bright blue ones.
Blue eyes.
Eyes of a killer…
"No… Oh god, no", she wheezed as she tried to get out of bed once again, but her body didn't cooperate.
It was like there wasn't a single spark of energy left inside of it, next to that, her stomach area felt really strange.
Like there was a strap around it, making it difficult to breathe or move.
And then there was, suddenly, the pain.
Nauseating and crippling pain, and without thinking, Charley's hands wandered down to the source of it.
Her fingers soon encountered a somewhat rough fabric through the hospital gown she was apparently wearing.
A bandage.
There was a bandage wrapped around her entire stomach area, and for some strange reason, that eased her nerves a little.
So did seeing the infusion needle in her hand.
Yes, she hated hospitals.
But she hated rooms made out of wood with dead babies in them even more.

Her eyes darted back to the blue ones, and now the panic slowly decreased a little, she could see that these eyes weren't empty, or occasionally filled with pure hatred or disgust.
No, they were friendly.
Packed with love and sympathy.
If only they were red…
"Pux", Charley breathed, and she reached out her hand to touch the blond girl's cheek.
"Is that really you?"
The eyes became a little watery, and Pux nodded as she took Charley's hand in a tightly comforting grip.
"Yes, it's me. You're safe, Charley. Even more so, you're going to be okay."

Completely and utterly exhausted, Charley slumped back on the bed and nestled her head in the soft pillow.
"I never thought I'd be so happy to see those awful lights decorating the ceiling…", she mumbled, now knowing for sure that she was really in the hospital this time.
Pux's brow furrowed, but before she could ask what Charley meant by that, she was already drifting off into a deep and dark sleep again.
Darkness…
It somehow felt soothing.
To just feel…
.nothing…

Hours passed.
But Pux didn't leave Charley's side.
Not even to eat, or to go to the bathroom.
No.
She had to stay here, to make sure Charley wouldn't feel the same panic she had seen in her green eyes when she woke up the first time.
A sight that was now etched into her brain only to haunt her for the rest of her life.
Never had she seen panic and fear this raw, this… real.
To see it in Charley's usual sparkling and comforting eyes only made it even scarier.
And so she just sat there, holding her friend's hand and mumbling soothing words to her.
All to make sure that she knew she was safe.
She had to know that she was safe.

Just when Pux was about to doze off in a restless sleep, Charley stirred, and the blond teenager straightened her back as she subconsciously braced herself for another panic episode.
However, it didn't come.
All there was readable in Charley's eyes when she opened them was worry.
"The… the baby…", she mumbled, and her hand slid down to her stomach.
Pux smiled as she rested her hand on Charley's.
"The baby is fine."
A small frown appeared on her friend's sleepy face.
"But… how?"
Pux gently squeezed her hand.
"I'll explain later. For now, you need to rest. The rest will come as it goes. All you need to know for now is that you and the baby are safe. You are safe, Charley. You are safe."

And with these comforting words, Charley fell back asleep again.
But this time, her face wasn't twisted in a mask of horror right before it relaxed.
No, there was something that could only be a little smile of relief, and Pux let out her breath, also feeling relieved.
She was going to be okay.
They both were.

were they?

It took Charley another twelve hours to wake up again, and much to Pux's joy, she seemed more responsive than before.
This time, she wasn't caught in this peculiar place between consciousness and unconsciousness, which finally gave them the time to have a real conversation.
One that wouldn't be easy but was necessary to fill in the gaps in Charley's memory.
After drinking the glass of water Pux just gave her, Charley rested her head back on the pillow with a sigh.
"So what happened?"
Pux made herself comfortable in the chair she was sitting in, not really knowing how to answer this question that was so broad.
She wasn't really good with broad questions, hence she answered it with a question as well.
"What do you remember?"

Charley's eyebrows twitched, and she stared at the ceiling.
"I remember walking out of the store. I remember someone coming up from behind me. There was the strangest scent, and after that, darkness. I woke up in a room. The man I told you about was there, the man from the store."
Her voice was flat, almost emotionless, but Pux could totally understand why she was currently disconnected.
A lot had happened to her, things that would traumatize even the strongest persons and thus also Charley.
"The Secretary of Justice", Pux said just as flatly, and Charley nodded.
"I find it strange that I didn't recognize him earlier, but I guess my mind was just too occupied with the pregnancy…"
The blond teenager nodded, fiddling with the sheet on Charley's bed.
"That makes total sense."

There was a long silence, it was, however, not awkward or uncomfortable.
It was just a silence needed for Charley to prepare herself to continue speaking, and Pux merely complied with her wishes.
Eventually, Charley opened her mouth again.
"He wanted my baby. He wanted to take it away from me because it wasn't pure. And so he did. He cut me open, and then everything went black…"
She turned her head to look at Pux with tears in her eyes.
"I should have died on that table, Pux. How is it even possible that I'm here?"
"Vinnie found you", Pux merely said, and Charley's eyebrows switched to a position that made her look sadder than ever, but also grateful.
"He did?"
Pux snorted, but not in a negative way.
"Did you doubt? Of course he did."
Despite being almost overwhelmed by her emotions, Charley raised one eyebrow while casting the blond-headed girl a meaningful glance.
"You're starting to sound like him. Not good."
Smiling, Pux bowed her head and continued watching her fiddling fingers.
"I suppose you're right."

But then, her face grew serious again.
"Charley, I…"
"You told him", Charley filled in for her when she trailed off again, and Pux nodded as she raised her eyes, looking at her friend with desperation and regret.
"I had to. I'm so, so, sorry, but I somehow figured out that you might be in the hands of the Angel of Death and I just had to alert the cavalry…"
Charley reached out to her and took her face in her hands in a soothing way.
"It's okay, Pux. I'm glad you did. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here. And that's all that matters."
Tears rose to Pux's eyes, and she laid her hand on one of Charley's for a brief moment.
"And I'm so glad that you are. I have no idea what I would have done if I lost you…"
Flashing one of her rare comforting smiles, Charley gently squeezed her cheek.
"But you didn't. I'm still here."
Already exhausted by this simple movement, she laid back on the bed, and after staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, she glanced at Pux again.
"So uhm… How-How did he take it?"

Pux sniffed as she wiped off her nose, trying very hard to grab herself back together, but it was kind of hard.
Also, this wasn't the kind of question she felt particularly overjoyed to answer.
"Yeah, well, you know… I think he took it kind of okay…ish?"
Her voice went up a little while saying the last word, and she cleared her throat as she wiggled in her chair uncomfortably with her eyes lowered.
"Sure, it was a little shocking, at first, but you know how he is…"
"Pux", Charley said partially warning, partially amused, and partially worried as she shot the blond teenager a meaningful look, knowing perfectly well that she was stonewalling.
Pux let out her breath and threw her hands in the air in defeat.
"Okay, he totally freaked out. And I mean really freaked out. Like, if freaking out had a Wikipedia page his picture would be on it for sure", she babbled, and Charley closed her eyes for a moment while letting out a muffled groan.
"Oh god, is the garage still standing?"
Pux fell silent for a brief moment, but then slowly nodded.
"Yeah, it is. It wasn't that kind of freaking out, ya know. It was more like he uhm… imploded, instead of exploded…"

With a furrowed brow, Charley glanced at the young girl sitting by her bed from the corner of her eye.
"So he fainted?"
"Well, no. Not really, that is. He just uhm… zoomed out. Kind of like his spirit left his body, which could belong to the category of fainting I suppose, but he didn't really faint, ya know? It really was the strangest thing, Charley. One moment he was looking at me and then POOF, he was gone. He just checked out. Throttle had to put him in a chair and massage his shoulders and all that shit, it was crazy."
Charley bit her lower lip, not sure what to think of this.
"So did he say something about it? I mean, when he woke up?", she asked a little hesitant, not sure if she even wanted to know as she had this sinking feeling that the answer to this wouldn't be pretty.
Above all, that it would be something she didn't want to hear.
That was partially triggered by Pux who seemed to be more uncomfortable with the minute.
"Well, at first he didn't, I mean, he went completely loco when he snapped out of his trance thingy, all he wanted was to get to you, Throttle had to chain him to your lift to talk some sense into him and then he might have said something, yes, but I'm not sure what it was… I mean, there was a lot happening at the same time and you know, I'm not really good with stressful situations, they always make me talk too much and…"

"Pux."

Letting out a frustrated grunt, Pux pressed the palms of her hand against her forehead.
"WhenThrottlementionedthebabyhesaidhecouldn'tcarelessaboutit."
She almost stumbled over the words as she practically spat them out like vomit, her voice muffled due to her hands covering her face and her cheeks burning with regret.
She didn't want to tell this part, but she couldn't just lie to her best friend either.
Not even when the truth would hurt her.
When silence was all that came in return, she peeked through her fingers, only to see Charley looking more defeated than ever, and she quickly took her hand in a tight grip, desperate to set this straight.
To make things right.
"I'm sure he only said that because he was upset. I'm sure he didn't mean it. You should've seen him, Charley. He was just so scared of losing you. All he cared for was saving you, all he wanted was to find you… I'm sure he just didn't have room to care for the baby as well…"

"You're probably right…", Charley whispered, trying very hard to ignore the uncomfortable feeling that now nestled itself in her stomach.
A feeling that told her that this, all this, wasn't over.
That maybe the worst had yet to come.
What if he would do what she had been so afraid of the moment she found out that she was pregnant?
What if he would leave her…?
Without really realizing it, she rested a hand on her lower abdomen.
She still had so many questions, but only one made it out of her mouth.
"Where is he?"
When Pux gave her a questionable look as she wasn't sure who she was referring to, Charley turned her head and her smoldering eyes locked with Pux's.
"Where is Vinnie?"

"Aaarrgghh, I can't take this anymore! I need to see her!"

Vinnie's high-pitched voice echoed through the garage, soon followed by a loud bang and the sound of crumbling stones.
Modo and Throttle shared a meaningful look before Throttle pulled his upset little brother away from the wall that was now decorated with multiple holes.
As always, when things didn't go his way or got tough, he punched his way through it, or in this case, Charley's poor wall.
"Easy, adrenaline mouse. I know this is frustrating, but even you know we can't just walk into the hospital during visiting hours. Not after all the trouble O'Neill went through to keep our identity secured", he explained calmly like he had done a thousand times already.
It was tempting to get angry at the white-furred mouse for being this insufferable, but it also wouldn't be fair.
It made perfect sense that Vinnie so desperately wanted to see his girl, even though he knew that she was relatively okay.
Pux had kept them in the loop the entire time, but Throttle knew it wasn't the same.
He knew Vinnie had to see it with his own eyes, but unfortunately, he had to wait until she would be released from the hospital.

Vinnie let out another frustrated groan as he dropped down on a pile of tires, and he rubbed his face with so much strength that he almost pulled his mask off.
Dammit, this was getting more unsustainable by the second.
Knowing that she was only a few miles away from him and yet, he wasn't allowed to go see her.
All he wanted was to see her.
To gaze into those insanely green eyes of hers and see them looking back.
Not just that, he wanted to feel her.
To smell her.
Taste those sweet lips of hers on his…
"Fuck", he panted, shaking his head as he tried to control this whirling storm inside of him.

"I know, Vin. I know. You just gotta hang on a little longer, and then you two will be reunited again", Modo told him while polishing his bike, all to keep himself busy.
In all fairness, even he felt this quite strong urge to see Charley.
Just to see with his own eyes that she was okay.
He couldn't even imagine how this must be for Vinnie.
All he got in response was another groan.
Knowing this was all they would get right now, Throttle dropped on the chair behind the desk and turned on the tv that hung on the wall close to the entrance.
Charley had installed it to keep her clients occupied when they had to wait, but as it turned out, it was also a perfect distraction for three alien mice who were anxious to see their human sidekick after leaving her behind in that horror house now two days ago.
He actually intended to watch the ball game, but it was the news that got his attention first, and he sat a little upright as he turned the volume up.

"We just received word that Detective Hank O'Neill, the man responsible for finding and killing the so-called Angel of Death, who turned out to be none other than the Secretary of Justice, has been exonerated."

Throttle leaned back in his chair as he watched the image of O'Neill walking down the stairs of the courthouse with a face like thunder and his arm in a sling.
Without saying a word, he wormed his way through the crowd of reporters with his lawyer close behind him before he stepped into the car waiting below the stairs.

"O'Neill claimed it to be self defense, a statement now confirmed by the evidence found on the crime scene."

The image changed, and O'Neill's lawyer came into view as he spoke to the press, but Throttle turned down the volume as he knew enough.
So I guess the plan worked after all", Modo said with relief, hanging over his bike to give the rims a good clean after their drive through the woods.
"I guess so…", Throttle nodded quietly, also relieved.
Vinnie, however, was still staring at the tv with a baffled look on his face.
"O'Neill's first name is… Hank?", he asked with twitching ears, and he burst into laughter, he just couldn't stop himself.
"Oh, man, I can't wait to tell Charley…"
The moment he mentioned her name, his laughter died.
"Right", he grumbled when he once again realized that he wasn't allowed to see her.
"Never mind."

Throttle heaved a sigh as he switched the TV off, suddenly not in the mood to watch the game anymore.
"Vin, I know this sucks, but…"
"Ugh, spare me the whole 'you just gotta have patience' crap. Did you forget who you're talking to? I have the same patience as a goddamn fishstick, remember?!", Vinnie spat out angrily, and he clenched his trembling hands into fists.
"I didn't know that fishsticks had patience in the first place", Modo mumbled, using his tail to remove the last piece of dirt between the spokes of the rear wheel of his bike.
Throttle raised his eyes to heaven while letting out another sigh.
"Here we go again…"
And indeed…

"THAT'S THE WHOLE POINT, SMARTASS!", Vinnie roared as he leaped to his feet, but right before his fist made contact with the wall again, he stopped as he suddenly had this delightful thing that was called an epiphany.
Throttle just said it himself, they couldn't just walk into the hospital during visiting hours.
But what about after visiting hours…?
The left corner of his mouth curled up, and he lowered his hand.
"I'm going to bed."

Modo's head popped up from behind his bike.
"Say what? It's three o'clock in the afternoon!"
"I'm tired", was all Vinnie said in return, and with that, he stomped up the stairs to Charley's bedroom.
He didn't even lie, actually.
He really was tired.
He hadn't slept ever since he had been forced to leave Charley behind, mostly because of the nightmares.
He was used to having nightmares, but not like the ones that were haunting him now.
Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw her lying there on that table, looking as dead as a doornail, and not even the knowledge that she was alive and safe was enough to ease his troubled mind.
And then there was the image of the back of the man's head exploding shortly after he pulled the trigger…
A shiver ran down his spine as he tried to ignore the sound of the gunshot ringing in his ears.
Man.
This whole thing had really fucked him up, more than he liked to admit.

But knowing that he was going to see her real soon surely would help him sleep a couple of hours…
…right?
He could only hope it did.
He could use all the strength he could get, for he didn't want to show her what all this had done to him.
Really had done to him.
No.
No more weakness.
He was done with all that.
So, so done.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Modo glanced at Throttle.
"When are we going to do something about the elephant in the room?"
The tan Martian frowned as he shot his brother a puzzled look.
"What elephant?"
Modo sighed, slightly annoyed.
"The baby. No one ever talks about the baby, Vinnie least of all. It feels wrong. It's like it's not even there, but you know what, it is. It survived and it's time that we acknowledge its existence."

Throttle took a deep breath through his nose before he let the air escape between his lips.
Modo was right, they really needed to talk about it.
But the thing was, he had no idea what to say.
No idea what to do.
He was absolutely clueless as to how a baby would fit into this life.
The only thing he could come up with was that it didn't.
It didn't fit, not even close.
So what was there to talk about?
"Let's just take it step by step, okay, big fella? We'll talk about it once Charley's home."
Modo only grumbled something in response, obviously, Throttle's answer didn't satisfy him, something the tan-furred mouse couldn't blame him for.
What was it that Modo's beloved grey-furred momma used to say?

'Procrastination is the thief of time'.

And, as always, she was right.