Hey you guys...

First of all, thanks for the reviews and follows/favs.
Really much appreciated!

Second, I'm sorry that I'm not able to update as often as you would want me to.
I don't mean to leave you hanging, it's just that I can only write when I'm in this creative flow and that sometimes only happens once in three or sometimes even four or five weeks.
I'm not a technical writer, but an emotional one, so I don't really have a saying in that, hehe.
My brain is definitely in charge here.

And then there's life.
It has this habit to get in the way.

Anyway.
Let's continue the story, shall we?
Enjoy! ^^

With trembling hands, Vinnie put the AI chip back where it belonged, and soon thereafter, his bike beeped softly and flashed its headlight.
It was her way of greeting him, which was cute, to say the least, but where it usually lit up Vinnie's heart, it now simply didn't.
He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he was having a pretty hard time at the moment.
There were so many emotions bubbling inside of him like boiling lava, but it was fear that prevailed.
Fear for his beloved Charley-girl, who was now in the hands of a man that had no heart, and he couldn't stand it.
He just couldn't stand it.
I mean, was he cursed or something?
There had only been two girls in his life that had managed to capture his heart, and they both ended up being kidnapped by pure evil.
It would be ironic if it wasn't so sad.

He had told Charley that she was different, and that was true.
Which was probably why he was almost beside himself with dread in the first place.
Despite that he hadn't loved Harley as profoundly as he loved Charley, losing her had definitely left its traces.
Not only had it broken his heart, but the whole event had also been seriously damaging to his confidence.
It had made him doubt himself more than he secretly already did, and now, it just happened all over again.
What if he failed Charley like he had failed Harley?
Goddammit, this was exactly what he had been so afraid of.
Exactly why he had been so scared of letting her in, but he did it anyway and now he was fucked in all possible ways.

Losing Harley had been devastating, yes, but losing Charley…
There was just no way he would be able to survive that.
His heart simply didn't have any pieces left to lose.
It was already too damaged.
Charley was the only one who made him feel alive, who made him feel that he was good as he was.
Who understood him like no one ever had done before.
Without her, he would be lost.
A wanderer.
Without her, he would break once again, but this time for good.
And not even his bros, who he loved dearly -in a macho kind of way of course- would be able to make him whole again.

"...and then there's the baby…"

Just like that and totally unwanted, Throttle's husky voice echoed through his head, and his already racing heart went haywire.
Yeah…
And then there's the baby…
Panic joined the already deadly mix of emotions, making him feel light-headed all of a sudden, and he slightly shook his head while gnashing his teeth.
No.
He had no room for this.
All that mattered to him was Charley.
His Charley-girl.
She needed him.
He could feel it in every fiber of his body.
Thinking of the pregnancy would only distract him, and there was literally no room for failure this time, not even so much as an inch.
He had to get her back.
Then, and only then would he deal with the whole baby thingy.

Ha.
As if.

Knowing himself as well as he did, he knew that was by far easier said than done.
After all, the only way he knew how to cope with things he had no idea how to cope with was to just run away and never look back.
But he couldn't just leave Charley.
That would destroy him.
So it was probably safe to say that he was in kind of a pickle here.
This realization, even though he tried everything within his power to keep his thinking about this subject to a minimum level, made his hands shake even worse, and he struggled for a moment to push the spark plug back in his bike.
Goddammit, what a mess this was.
Why had his life to be so complicated?
Not only was he about to explode out of his fur, but there was also his wounded wrist.
It was needless to say that the last thing he wanted was to admit it, but it hurt like a motherfucker.
Whenever he moved even so much as a muscle in his little finger, his entire body flinched under the heavy jolt of pain that rushed through his veins, and it infuriated him beyond words.
It made him feel even weaker.
He didn't do weak.
He was Vincent Van Wham, for fuck sake.

Then grab yourself together, macho mouse.
Focus on the one thing that matters right now.

That stupid voice in his head was right.
He really needed to stop wallowing in self-pity and just focus on the mission ahead of him.
There was simply no time for giving in to the physical pain, or to dumb emotions like fear.
No.
There was only one emotion that he needed to focus on right now, and that was the pure hatred he felt for the man that had his girl in his claws.
Stoker once told him that hatred was blinding, that it clouded one's judgment.
That it was hatred that was a mouse' biggest enemy, and not fear.
Headstrong as he was, Vinnie didn't agree with that theory.
He found hatred exceptionally enlightening, from time to time.
A great motivator, so to say.
Today was no different, and just like that, his head cleared.
All emotions except one just vanished into nothingness, kind of like snow melting under the sun.
His hands stopped shaking, and with a soft click, the spark plug was back where it belonged.
In spite of himself, a little smile curled his lips.
That was at least one victory in his name.
Let's add a few more to it, shall we?
Fuck yeah.

With steady hands and a face as blank as his fur, Vinnie reached for the gun in his leg holster and opened the small compartment at the side almost tenderly.
His red eyes roamed over the purple stone that was its power source, and when he established that it was still glowing bright enough, he rested his hand on it for a brief moment.
It was still warm, too.
In other words, his gun was just as ready to rumble as he was.
But perhaps he had to think this one through.
Perhaps he had to play this one smart instead of just diving in head first, and his eyes darted over to O'Neill, who was trying on the helmet Throttle had given him.
His gaze wandered over the bald man's body, only to end up on the slight bulge under his khaki jacket.
Bingo.
Again, one corner of his mouth curled up as a plan started to form in his head, one that would give all of them what they wanted in case things would go south.
It would be subtle and yet, very… effective…
…hehe.
You see, this is why he loved to let himself run by hatred.
It made him so deliciously calculated and smart.

A warm hand on his arm broke him out of his quite unsettling thoughts, and he looked down, straight into Pux's insanely blue eyes.
"Come here."
A confused frown appeared on his face, but then he spotted the medkit in her hands, and he shook his head as the typical male he was.
"No need. I'm fine."
The lie came out so smoothly that he expected Pux to buy it without question, but although the blond teenager was many things, stupid wasn't one of them.
Nor was she blind.
She had seen him flinch whenever he moved his right hand, and after putting one and one together, she had taken the medkit out of the cabinet.
And so here she was.
Looking Vinnie straight in the eye without even showing a shred of the fear she felt inside by seeing his smoldering eyes or by hearing the slightly menacing tone of his voice.
"You're not fine. Let me at least clean it and put a bandage on it. It might get infected if I don't."
The white-furred Martian rolled his eyes as he brushed her hand off his arm.
"It's just a scratch, doll. No biggie."

Now it was Pux who rolled her eyes while heaving an excessively loud sigh.
"Ugh, you're such a y-chromosome cliche", she grunted before pointing at the chair close to her while giving said cliche one of her finest deadly glares.
"Sit. Now."
Against all odds, Vinnie did what she said, although with reluctance.
Or maybe that wasn't the best way to describe it.
The way he dropped in the chair while sighing even louder than Pux did earlier resembled more of a child's way of dealing with things it didn't want to do but hey, at least he listened to her.
Not sure how she was suddenly ballsy enough to order an alien that was armed to the teeth around but grateful that she was, the blond-headed girl just ignored his juvenile attitude and sat down across from him.
After a short hesitation, she took his right hand between her fingers and pulled it closer so she could take a better look at the wound.
If anything, it looked quite painful.
And deep.
Don't forget deep.
At some places, it was even deep enough for her to see a shimmer of something that could only be bone, and her stomach cramped in a most unpleasant way.
She had done her fair share of first aid, but nothing like this, and she shook her head.
"Just a scratch, huh? Maybe you should borrow Throttle's glasses a little more often."

Vinnie's brow furrowed as he leaned forward, and the tip of his antennas almost brushed the top of her head when he too took a closer look at the wound.
Now he was so close to her all of a sudden, Pux's heart made a strange flutter in her chest, and she wasn't entirely sure why that was.
Sure, he was hella intimidating, he always had been ever since she met him, but there was something about him that made his close presence even more overwhelming than it usually was.
Yet, she didn't move.
All that happened was that her breathing became a tad bit heavier as well, and Vinnie's ear twitched before he slowly raised his head.
His crimson eyes wandered over her face before they locked with hers, and the left corner of his mouth curled up into a very cheeky smile.
"Am I making you nervous, sweetheart?", he asked almost teasingly, his nose only inches away from hers.

Of course, his super alien powers allowed him to notice the sudden change in her vitals, which was annoying as much as it was impressive, and Pux swallowed with difficulty as she gazed into his eyes.
Despite the anxiety she felt now his intense aura was mixed with hers, she couldn't help but notice that something seemed to be different about them.
When he woke up out of his state of shock, they had been a whirlpool of emotions, but now they simply weren't.
It wasn't that they were empty like earlier, but the fire in his ruby-red irises had been reduced from bright flames to smoldering coals, and although she had no idea what it meant, it felt… dangerous.
In fact, his entire presence felt dangerous.
As if something was brewing inside of him.
Something evil.
It seemed to be at odds with his smile, which was cheeky, yes, most definitely.
But it also felt fake.

Add that to the fact that he was flirting with her, which was not only inappropriate since his heart belonged to Charley, but also ill-timed.
The love of his life was in mortal danger, and here he was, playing games.
It didn't make any sense.
Only minutes ago, he had been close to breaking, and now, he wasn't.
It was strange, to say the least.
Not to mention worrying.
Deciding that ignoring him was probably the best course of action right now, Pux let go of his hand and created some healthy distance between them before she started rummaging through the medkit with a blush coloring her usually pale cheeks.
She hated that he could get to her.
That they all three could get to her, actually.
Aliens…
Life was so much simpler without them, that's for sure.

Eventually, she found what she was looking for, and while she unscrewed the cap of the bottle of Betadine, she bravely caught Vinnie's gaze again.
"This ain't supposed to hurt, but I can't make any promises."
The white-furred Martian shrugged as he leaned back in his chair, his smile already gone again.
"Just get it over with so we can go."
Again, his voice gave her the chills, and Pux's brow furrowed when she poured the Betadine over the wound, coloring his white fur dark brown.
His fingers twitched in response, but that was to be all, and the blond teenager switched the bottle in her hand with a bandage.
While she was putting it around his wrist -and hand for support-, she glanced at him from time to time, still racking her brain about what it was that was so different all of a sudden.
Well, she could, of course, just ask him.
Bad idea.
"Are you uhm… are you okay?"
Vinnie, again, shrugged as he flashed her an almost lazy smile.
"Peachy."

Bad idea, indeed.

It had been quite naive on her part to expect him to bear his soul.
They hardly knew each other, and as far as she was concerned, they didn't even like each other that much.
If only she could let it go, but she couldn't, and while she continued her work, she cautiously peeked at him through her lashes again.
Her gaze wandered from his clear yet slightly smoldering eyes to the mildly twitching muscle close to his nose to eventually end up on his teeth that were partially buried into his lower lip, and it suddenly hit her like a meteor.
Suddenly, she knew exactly what was going on here.
Instead of exploding like he usually did, he now sort of imploded.
Even more so, he was up to something.
Something bad.
As in - really bad.
So bad, that he didn't want his beloved bros to find out, and so, he just acted like his usual sassy self.

Or well, he tried, but thanks to her high sensitivity, he wasn't able to fool her.
No one really was.
It was about the only perk of being so sensible as she was.
She saw things others didn't see, or well, most of the time she did anyway.
Sometimes, like today, it took her a little longer to figure it out, but she knew now.
She knew, for instance, that the smoldering fire in his eyes belonged to the mix of the emotions anger, contempt, and disgust, also better known as hatred.
She also knew that this was a side of Vinnie that was even more dangerous than all of his other ones together, simply because someone who was driven by hatred was sharp, cold, and calculated, which basically equaled unpredictability.

Oh.
Shit.

Goosebumps spread across her body as her insides twisted and turned, making her feel slightly nauseous, and her eyes flashed toward Throttle, who was currently trying to convince O'Neill that it was perfectly safe to ride with him.
Perhaps she should warn him.
You know.
Throttle.
Perhaps she should tell him that the youngest member of his team had gone rogue in total silence, but the thing was, she felt reluctant to do so.
As if something was stopping her, something that felt a lot like a desperate wish for justice.
God knew she wasn't a vengeful person, but this man, this killer…
He didn't deserve the air he was breathing.
She had to admit, these kinds of thoughts shocked her.
It really wasn't like her.
But this was about Charley.
Her friend, her hero.
And perhaps hatred was contagious, after all…

Her eyes darted back to the bandage, only to see that she was almost done and she knew she had to make a decision as time was about to be in a real short supply since she wasn't allowed to go with them.
Throttle had told her to stay put since it was -quote- too dangerous for her to come along, and shit, maybe he was right.
She would only be in the way, and thus the best way for her to help Charley was to stay behind.
But the fact that it was a perfectly rational decision didn't make her feel any less helpless, until now, that is.
Now, this sudden opportunity presented itself on a silver platter.
Now, she was suddenly in control of at least one thing and while she used Leukoplast to make sure the bandage wasn't going anywhere, she made a decision.
Which was just in time, because the moment she taped the last piece partially around his wrist -thereby carefully avoiding his fur knowing he wasn't going to like her any more if he was forced to rip the hairs out of his arm once the time had come to remove the bandage-, Vinnie already tried to pull his hand back.
However, instead of letting him go, Pux tightened her grip around his fingers and leaned closer to him, this time without even batting an eye.
"If he has hurt her in any way… You make him pay, you hear me?", she whispered in his ear, and she squeezed his hand to strengthen her words.
"Just make him pay."
Vinnie merely glanced at her from under his lashes, and his eyes flared up for a second in the most eerie way before he gave her an almost invisible nod.

…

"Are you sure this is safe? I mean, I've seen my fair share of motorcycle accidents and believe me, it ain't pretty", O'Neill said a bit stuffy as he took place behind Throttle, who glanced at him over his shoulder with a crooked smile that was supposed to be comforting but was a little teasing instead.
"No sweat, O'Neillio. I haven't been in an accident since I ditched my training wheels. As long as no one's shooting at us or trying to blow us up, you'll be fine."
O'Neill scowled while checking the chin strap of his helmet for the umpteenth time since he put it on exactly one minute ago.
"How comforting."
The sarcasm wasn't hard to miss, not even now his face was slightly wadded up due to the helmet that was actually one size too small for him, making him look a little goofy.
But it was all they had right now and despite what people might think, safety was a high priority for the mice, especially when it came to those close to them.
"Honestly, I don't know how you talked me into this. I don't even like bikes, or helmets for that matter", O'Neill continued his little grumbling session, not able to stop talking due to his nervousness, but Throttle wasn't impressed as he shook his head with still that somewhat teasing smile on his face.
"You should've thought of that before you finished that bottle of vodka, my friend."

"One bottle ain't nearly enough for this", the detective huffed as he tried to make himself comfortable to no avail.
"Well, you could always ride with Vinnie", the tan-furred mouse suggested while nonchalantly shrugging one shoulder.
"Though I gotta warn you, he'd probably pop wheelies all the time and call you 'O'Wheelio'."
O'Neill's face darkened even more, as far as that goes, and he glanced at Vinnie, who didn't seem to be following the conversation as he was busy checking the weapons on his cherry-red bike.
"I'd rather shake hands with Limburger than to ride with that kamikaze pilot…"
The thought alone sent a shiver down his spine, and he shook his head as he patted Throttle on the shoulder.
"Nah. I'll take my chances with you."

Modo chuckled, and he slightly shook his head while he mounted his precious Lil' Hoss.
Despite the gravity of the situation they were currently finding themselves in, witnessing that the usually imperturbable policeman did seem to have some weaknesses was refreshingly amusing, to say the least, especially that one of the said weaknesses turned out to be riding a bike, something he himself practically lived for.
The world really was a strange place.
"FYI, O'Wheelio, I don't think someone's gonna shoot us. Limburger is probably still licking his wounds after what we did to his warehouse last week, so he ain't gonna be a problem right now. You're gonna be just fine."
"Tell that to the giant bullseye you guys seem to have on your back", O'Neill muttered, still not comforted as he was already familiar with Martians being a trouble magnet.
"Bullets always find you, no matter where the gun's aimed at."

"Well, then I guess it's a good thing Limburger uses lasers and missiles instead of bullets", Vinnie now finally meddled with the conversation, snickering so-called teasingly as he put on his helmet.
Although he did everything within his power to really sound as teasing as he wanted to, there was a certain undertone in his voice that didn't elude Throttle, and the tan Martian glanced at his baby bro out of the corner of his eye, only to see that the smile that was still there didn't reach his eyes.
But that wasn't what worried Throttle to the core.
It was the fact that he was even smiling in the first place, or at least attempting to, that gave him this odd feeling of unease.
He shouldn't be smiling.
He shouldn't be teasing.
Above all, he shouldn't be so… calm.
It was just so not Vinnie-like.
This wasn't how he usually dealt with a crisis that involved a loved one in mortal danger, which was about the only thing that was able to really tick him off.
That made him beside himself with fear and anger, kind of like he had been only minutes ago.
Then why the hell was he so calm all of a sudden?

Throttle had no idea.
What he did know was that right now, there was nothing he could do other than keep a close eye on him, and while letting out his breath, he closed his visor.
"Let's ride, folks. We've got ourselves a lady to save…"
"...a bad guy to catch…", Modo added with a somewhat ominous smirk on his face as he too closed his visor.
"…and do it with style", Vinnie finished arrogantly while cracking the knuckles of his not-wounded hand.
As if on cue, three mighty engines roared to life, and after waving at Pux, who waved back with a frown on her face that gave away both her concerns about Charley and her displeasure of being forced to stay behind, the three furry heroes and their human sidekick in blue drove out.

The moment his tires made contact with the asphalt of the adjacent road, Vinnie took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes, knowing it was up to him now.
All he had to do was focus on Charley, which sounded so simple but in reality, it was anything but that.
Not only was the pressure sky high as there was so much at stake, he was also cursed with an easily distracted mind, but once again, the hatred he was carrying in his heart helped him to stay sharp.
It helped him to remember what he was going to lose if he would fail.
It helped him to smell her scent.
To feel her warm touch.
To see her sparkling green eyes.
It helped him to visualize every moment they had.
Like a movie, they played in his head, all the way back to the day they officially met, and the left corner of his mouth twitched when he saw the image of her walking backward in that alley with her thumbs up and that somewhat goofy smile on her beautiful face.

"Go vigilantes."

Gosh, she had been so awkwardly cute that night.
So endearing and yet so brave.
There was a tingle in his belly, and his heart fluttered in his chest when a certain craving came over him, filling every nook and cranny of his body.
A craving so strong, it completely swept him off his feet.
Never had he felt so attracted to someone, never had he loved someone this much and to be away from her while all he wanted was to have her as close as possible was just… overwhelming.
His muscles became weak, and his bike wobbled dangerously when his hands slipped off the handlebars for a brief moment, but Vinnie hardly noticed.
There was only her.
All he wanted right now was to be with her.
To take her in his arms and hold her till the end of time.
Knowing that he couldn't brought tears to his eyes, and he tightened his grip around the handlebars again.
"Charley… My sweet Charlene, where are you?", he breathed shakily as he gazed up at the sky, in some strange way hoping to find a sign there.
A sign that would tell him where to go.
Where to find her.
All he wanted was to find her.
He had to find her.

As expected yet still somewhat disappointing, there was nothing readable in the stars, and Vinnie clenched his teeth in frustration.
"All you need to do once we're on the road is focus on her with everything you have in you and your mind will tell you where to go", he imitated Throttle's husky voice flawlessly before sticking out his tongue.
Ugh.
Such great advice, bro.
Not.
But just when he was about to tell his beloved tan-furred leader that in a not-very friendly way, something happened.
It wasn't a sign in the stars.
It wasn't the moon shining its light down to reveal the path.
It wasn't the wind turning, telling him what direction to go.
No, it wasn't any of that.
It was way simpler, and yet, he couldn't explain it.
But for whatever reason, he suddenly knew exactly where to go.
He just knew, and his nose twitched as he looked at the road ahead of him with renewed confidence and strength.

The tears were gone.
His heartbeat calmed down to a steady drum.
He knew what to do now.
How could he forget?
He just had to be what he always had been.
A hero.
His tail gently caressed the side of his bike, all to encourage her.

"Fly, Sweetheart. Show us the meaning of haste. Charley needs us."

And with that, he put the pedal to the medal as if the devil itself was chasing him.
Maybe it was.
Or maybe he was the devil.
All ready to unleash hell and fire on the one taking his girl.
To make him burn.
To make him pay.
To make him bleed.
Oorah.

…

The moment they accelerated, O'Neill let out a terrified gasp and tightened his grip around Throttle's waist.
He hadn't lied.
He really didn't like riding a bike, especially not when he wasn't driving it himself.
God knew it wasn't manly, but it was just the way things were.
Observing as he was, Throttle didn't miss the fact that his co-passenger was getting more nervous by the second, and so he figured a little distraction would perhaps ease O'Neill's nerves.
Thus, he signed to Modo to stay close to Vinnie while he slowed down just enough to get away from his bro's roaring engines, making them able to talk in relative peace.
"Do you have any idea why the man is doing this? You know, kidnapping women to take their babies?", he asked calmly to open the conversation as he tried to keep his bike as steady as possible.
Although it was kind of tempting to mess a little with the usual stoic detective, there was in reality no need to scare the poor guy even more.

O'Neill swallowed with difficulty as he tried very hard to keep his stomach contents where they belonged, namely inside.
"No, but to be honest, in some fucked-up way, it makes sense, actually. I only met the guy a few times, but when I did, he always gave me the creeps. There's just something about him that felt… off."
Throttle slowly nodded, keeping his bionic eyes peeled on the road.
"So what's his story?"
The detective shrugged.
"No one really knows. All I know is that he took the job because he didn't like where the world was going. Thought he could make a difference. I dunno, maybe he found out that he couldn't and decided to take matters into his own hands…"

"And with where the world was going you mean…"

"Racism. Or more like the reduction of it", O'Neill answered flatly or maybe even slightly disgustedly, but he then suddenly jerked upright as if stung by a bee, as far as that goes on a bike.
"That's it!"
The bike wobbled due to his sudden movement, and Throttle quickly coiled his tail around the man's waist as he used his weight to steady his beloved motorcycle.
"Ya know, for someone who knows a lot about bike accidents, you seem to forget that sudden movements like that can actually cause said accidents", he said partially warning, partially joking, but O'Neill hardly seemed to notice that it even happened in the first place, which was actually quite astonishing considering how scared he had been only seconds ago.

"I can't believe I missed that. How did I miss that?", he babbled as he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket for his precious notebook.
His fear indeed completely forgotten, he flipped through the pages, softly mumbling to himself.
Throttle glanced over his shoulder before he followed Vinnie and Modo onto the highway that led away from the city.
"Care to involve me, Sherlock?"
"The fathers are all African American. That's what links the victims. I mean, there's always a link. I just didn't see it because I don't judge people by their skin color but by their behavior", O'Neill explained as he put the notebook back where it belonged, shaking his head in disbelief.
How could he have been so stupid?
So blind?

"You use the law as your guideline, not people's appearance", Throttle concluded, and he squeezed his tail to comfort his detective friend for he could feel the inner disapproval practically dripping out of his pores.
"Ya know, where I come from, we call that a good character trait."
"Not if it makes you miss things you really shouldn't miss", O'Neill grumbled, severely annoyed by himself.
Annoyed that he apparently had dropped a few stitches in this investigation, something that wasn't like him, at all.
The fact that anyone who just found out about alien life would be a little less sharp than usual didn't make him feel better about himself.
Not even a bit.

"You really think knowing this would've led you to the Secretary of Justice?", Throttle asked as he swirled around one of the few cars that were on the road at this hour.
"I mean, you said it yourself. It's the fucking Secretary of Justice."
To hear Throttle use the F-word was shocking, to say the least, not to mention amusing as it was just so out of character, and a little smile appeared on the detective's face.
"I really like your way of making points. It's so… to the point."
Throttle chuckled, slightly shaking his head.
"And I like your great way with words."

Silence dawned upon them, and after staring at the starry sky for a little while, O'Neill leaned back against the backrest on Throttle's bike, this time a little more cautiously.
"Ya know, there might be a chance that the house is guarded by Secret Service…", he mused out loud, thinking of all the ways this mission could go wrong, which happened to be a lot.
"Yeah? So he kills people while Secret Service keeps out the bad people?", Throttle scoffed, though not in a patronizing kind of way, but O'Neill still briefly closed his eyes.
He really wasn't his usual sharp self.
Maybe chugging that bottle of vodka wasn't such a good idea, after all…
"Fair point."

There was another silence, and again, it was O'Neill who broke it.
For some reason, riding a bike made him talkative, or maybe it was, again, that damned bottle of vodka.
"How do you know all this stuff?"
"What stuff?", Throttle merely asked back, resting his lower arm on the left handlebar to stretch the slightly sore muscles in his shoulder.
"Politics. Secret Service. You have never asked me once what the hell I'm talking about and the last time I checked, you're still the alien here."
The tan Martian slightly shrugged one shoulder.
"I read a lot. I like to know as much as possible about the place where I live. So I've done my fair share of research."

O'Neill nodded with arched brows and the corners of his mouth slightly pointing downward.
"I'm impressed."
And he really was.
The better he got to know this peculiar creature, the more he started to like him.
Heck, perhaps he could even learn things from him.
Like how to be a leader.
That could come in handy now he had his own little squad to run and he really liked Throttle's way of leading.
And who knew, maybe it would even help him to become a good father…

"You never asked me about Mars. Aren't you curious?", Throttle asked him as he now used his left hand to massage his right shoulder.
He really was way too uptight, or at least, his body was.
His mind was peculiarly calm.
It always was right before a mission.
All to keep him sharp.
"No. There's already so much I don't understand about Earth, I think my head will literally explode if I try to understand Mars as well", O'Neill answered in all honesty, and a small smile curled Throttle's lips.
This was exactly what he liked so much about O'Neill.
The man never lied.
He always said things just the way they were.
"Fair enough."

Although he was indeed speaking the truth, there was, however, one thing that O'Neill was genuinely curious about.
Something he wanted to ask for a little while now, but it never seemed to be the right moment to do so.
Until now.
"Do you miss it?"
To be fair, the question took Throttle a little off guard, and he swallowed with difficulty as he gazed up at the sky.
His bionic eyes found the red dot that was his home effortlessly, and he heaved a sad sigh.
"I do."
"You don't like to talk about it", O'Neill concluded after hearing the somewhat aloof tone in the Martian's husky voice.
"I don't."
The detective frowned in confusion.
"Then why ask me why I never ask anything if you don't even wanna talk about it in the first place?"
"Because I do like to try to understand everything. And everyone", Throttle explained himself.
"It gives me this rare feeling of peace."
O'Neill nodded blankly.
"Because knowledge equals predictability."

Throttle let out a smoky laugh as he glanced over his shoulder with a teasing smile on his face.
"So you ain't stupid after all. You seem to understand more than you give yourself credit for."
"Nah. It's just that I recognize a control freak when I see one", O'Neill said meaningfully as his eyes locked with Throttle's for a moment.
The tan-furred mouse merely smiled as he focussed his attention back on the road.
It seemed to be the end of their conversation if it wasn't for O'Neill to break the silence once again.
"You're sure that Vinnie will control himself?"
Throttle's eyes darted to the white and red dot that was his baby bro.
"He will."
But it didn't sound convincing.
Not even the slightest.

…

Lying completely still, Charley stared at the ceiling.
Her head felt really strange.
It reminded her of the Mind Walk she had with Vinnie, but at the same time, it felt different.
Or maybe it was just a side effect of the chloroform the man had used to get her here but to be fair, she liked the first option better.
It made her feel less alone.
Kind of like Vinnie was here with her.
She had no idea how much time had passed since the man had left her alone again, but every second that she was trapped in this room was one too many.
Every muscle in her body was practically itching to get out of here, but there was just no way for her to break her bounds.
She had tried everything, from pulling to trying to bite her way through them, but it had all been in vain.

There were only two possible scenarios here, ready to unfold.
One - Vinnie would find her and get her out in one piece.
Two - She would leave this room in a body bag.
A heavy sigh left her mouth.
She didn't want to die.
Not like this.
Not without having the chance to meet her child.
God…
Help me.

Her ears caught the sound of footsteps approaching, and for a brief moment, there was a spark of hope that made her heart flutter through her chest like a hummingbird.
But when she raised her head to look at the door, that spark got immediately extinguished again, for instead of Vinnie it was the man that came inside, which wasn't really surprising, actually.
In fact, it was stupid of her to believe otherwise, but as proven once again, hope could be a dangerous thing.
It could make the impossible possible, or at least inside one's head.
However, if she had to be completely honest, it wasn't seeing the man coming inside that crushed her hope without mercy.
No, it was the way he was dressed that made her stomach drop, and she instinctively knew that this was it.
This was the moment she was going to die.
She wished there would have been more time, but there wasn't, and a short breath came over her lips when she now fully realized that there was no way out of this.
If only she was ready, but she wasn't.
God knew she wasn't.

And just like that, her earlier bravery was gone.
Just like that, the lone wolf crawled back into his hole, and all there was left now was fear of the unknown.
And regrets.
So many regrets…
Tears filled her eyes, and she looked back at the ceiling, her hands clenched into fists in an attempt to deal with this maddening fear that was now rushing through her veins, crushing everything in its path.
Never had she felt this helpless, this afraid.
Not even in that alley.
Not even when she fell down from the sky.
Because Vinnie had been there.
And now, he wasn't.
She was going to die alone, and it was that exact thought that broke her heart.

The sound his surgical clothing made with every step he took closer to her only fed her growing hysteria, and her breathing became heavier and heavier as she squinted her eyes.
She couldn't look at him, she just didn't dare to, knowing it was death that would be staring back at her and she just couldn't bear it.
The thought alone made her almost hyperventilate.
And so, she just lay there.
Every muscle as tight as a drum.
Her eyes squeezed shut tight.
Her shoulders pulled up so high they almost touched her earlobes.
Her hands clenched with so much strength that her nails cut through the skin on her palm.
Waiting for death to come and collect her soul.

The man said nothing as he came closer.
He was as noiseless as she imagined death would be.
A silent killer.
A soft gust of wind, along with the scent of his awful cologne told her that he had reached the table, and a soft squeak escaped her lips as she almost exploded out of her skin in terror.
Not seeing him suddenly felt even scarier, as far as that goes, and although with reluctance, Charley opened her right eye and peeked through her eyelids.
The man was, indeed, standing at her bedside, but he wasn't looking at her.
No, he was looking down, searching for something under her bed with his foot, which was strange, actually.
So strange, that it gave her the courage to open her other eye, but just when she did, there was a soft click heard, and suddenly, the bed was moving.

It was then that Charley realized why the bed was so uncomfortable and cold.
It wasn't really a bed.
It was an operating table on wheels.
And now, he was rolling her toward the other end of the room.
Toward the wall with glass jars, which was enough for her fear to even multiply, a thing she never thought possible.
"No, please… I'm not ready to die…", she breathed, shaking her head while unwanted tears blurred her vision.
All she wanted was to tell him to go to hell, to show him that he didn't affect her, but all she could was beg him not to do this.
Goddammit, how much she hated this man.
Not only for what he was about to do but also for making her feel so weak.
For getting under her skin.
For turning her back into a victim.
She didn't want to be a victim.
Not after being one for almost half her life.
"Please… You don't have to do this…", she whispered as a single tear trickled down her cheek, but the man ignored her.
Unlike earlier, he didn't seem to be interested in having a conversation, which only confirmed that this was, indeed, the moment she feared with everything she had in her.

The bed stopped moving, and after putting the brakes on with his foot, his gloved hand reached for something above her.
Charley followed it with bated breath, but soon, a bright light almost blinded her, and she looked down again, only to see the man picking up a scalpel from the plate next to him.
The blade glittered in the light of the surgical lamp hanging on the ceiling, the very one he just turned on, and her teeth started to clatter as she tried to back away to no avail.
"No, no, no, no, get that thing away from me", she cried, entirely overwhelmed by panic now as tears streamed down her face, and she pulled on her strings with everything she had in her.
"Vinnie!"
Her shrieking voice echoed against the wooden walls, making her own eardrums vibrate, but the man merely glanced over the edge of his surgical mask that was covering the lower part of his face without flinching.
"I can sedate you, if you want?"

"No!", Charley exclaimed without thinking, violently shaking her head with her green eyes wide open.
"No sedative."
Some might say that she was being unnecessarily brave here, or even just plain stupid, but the last thing she wanted right now was to lose consciousness, not even while it suddenly felt very tempting to just fade away from this living nightmare.
She had no idea if Vinnie was able to hear or feel her, but she liked to believe that he did.
Which meant she couldn't let him sedate her.
She had to stay awake for as long as she was able to.
Right now, it was her only hope.
Vinnie was her only hope.
Truthfully, he always had been ever since she met him.

Hurry, my love.
I need you…

…

The sharp pain that jolted through his head caught Vinnie off guard, and a soft grunt escaped his mouth as he pressed his hand against his helmet in some sort of reflex, which was useless, of course.
But just when he realized that, the pain was already gone again, and he blinked his red eyes in confusion.
He instinctively knew that this strange sensation had something to do with the connection he now shared with Charley, but that was to be all.
If only he had paid attention during the few Mind Walk lessons he followed back in the days, but he hadn't, and he now secretly cursed himself for it.
Letting out his breath, the white Martian reached for his handlebar again, but right before his fingers made contact with it, his heart suddenly started to jump through his chest like a bouncing ball, making it feel as if he was about to have a heart attack.
Along with it came a certain coldness.
It started in his chest, but soon rushed through his veins, giving him goosebumps all over his body, and his breathing accelerated faster than his bike going flat out as his teeth started to clatter almost uncontrollably.
"What the…"
It was tempting to freak out as he had no idea what was happening, but he then realized that was exactly what was going on right now.
Instead it wasn't him who was freaking out.
It was Charley.

This could only mean two things.
One - he was getting closer to her.
Two - they were running out of time, for there was only one word he could come up with to describe what he was currently feeling right now, and that was fear.
Pure mortal fear.
"Fuck", he panted, shaking his head as he tried to stay focused, but it was hard.
Feeling her fear mixed with his own was overwhelming, to say the least, and he tightened his grip around the handlebars while gritting his teeth.
"Come on, Vincenzo. Focus. Just focus. Charley needs you. There's no time for mental breakdowns, there never is 'cause they ain't cool and you, mister, are the definition of cool. Don't you ever forget about that. You're Vinnie Van Wham, Motocross Champion of the Galaxy and the baddest mammajammer of the universe", he mumbled to himself in the hope that reminding himself of how badass he actually was would help him block out Charley's fear.

And it worked, which was strange, actually, for it felt like he was telling nothing but lies.
He didn't feel cool right now.
He didn't feel badass.
All he felt was vulnerable and scared, kind of like a child.
But that was the beauty of lies, was it?
They created this oddly soothing illusion that helped one escape reality.
And while his heartbeat slowed down, he took the exit and drove straight towards the woods, instinctively knowing Charley was there.
She was there, scared and alone.
Just like him.
She didn't only need him.
He needed her, too.

Hang on, Charley-girl.
I'm coming for you.

…

"Any last words?"

To be fair, this question surprised Charley.
He didn't strike her as the kind of man that liked to listen to people unburden themselves on his table, next to that, he hadn't been exactly talkative ever since he came in dressed like a surgeon.
This made her come to the conclusion that it was more like a rhetorical question, a theory confirmed by him already lowering the hand with the scalpel.
Time seemed to stop ticking, in fact, the entire world seemed to come to a halt
And so did Charley.
For some reason, she suddenly couldn't move.
All she could do was follow his gloved hand with her eyes.
The sound of her own ragged breathing echoed through her head, along with the pounding of her racing heart as she watched him placing the sharp blade of the scalpel right above her belly button.
This felt surreal, to say the least.
There was just no way in hell that this was really happening to her, right?
Right?!
This was all just a bad dream.
It had to be.

That had to be the reason why she didn't sense the coldness of the blade when it made contact with her skin.
Or why she didn't feel him applying pressure.
Or why she didn't hear the sickening sucking sound created by the blade that was now cutting into her flesh.
Or why she didn't smell the nauseating scent of the blood that splattered all over her.
It was almost like she was having an out-of-body experience.
As if she was looking at someone else being cut open.
With her breathing now shallow, she rested her head back on the pillow.
Staring at the wooden ceiling, she braced herself, for she knew it was inevitable.
She might not know much, but she did know all about time.
And time always leaped forward to make up for possible lost seconds.
Time always caught up.
Today was no different.

And there it was.
Pain.
Excruciating and crippling pain.
It was pain like she had never felt before.
So vicious.
So intense.
There was actually only one way for her body to deal with this all-consuming pain, and that was to just shut down.
If only she had enough time to try to reach out to Vinnie one last time, but it was just like mentioned before - time wasn't in her favor.
And before she could even fully comprehend what was actually happening to her, the entire world became black.

…

The soft click in his head sounded like a gunshot so loud, but that wasn't what scared the shit out of him.
No, it was feeling Charley's emotions fade away until there was nothing left that did, and Vinnie let go of the throttle.
"No…"
His bike slowed down, but Vinnie hardly noticed as the already so familiar panic trickled in without mercy.
"No, no, no, Charley, don't do this to me… Stay with me, sweetheart, stay with me…", he breathed, but silence was all that came in return.
Shaking his head with gritted teeth, he hit the brakes, causing Modo almost to crash into him.
Luckily, the grey-furred mouse was blessed with excellent reflexes, and he quickly swirled around him before he too halted.
After opening his visor, he looked at his young bro with concern holding his heart in a tight grip.
"What's wrong, Vin?"
The young Martian looked back at him with his red eyes wide open.
"The connection… It's just… gone."

Uh oh...
Another cliffhanger.
Sorry.

I wonder, how are they going to find Charley with the connection being gone?
And if they do, will they even be on time?
Things aren't looking well.

Well, I hope you guys liked this chapter.
I wasn't really satisfied with it, but that's nothing new, haha.

Feel free to leave a review, always makes my day, and till next time, my friends!

Later!