Hey you guys...
How are you doing out there?

Thank you so much for the reviews, follows, and favs!
And I'm really sorry for that cliffhanger...hehe.
No, I really am.
It was a really mean one, I know.

So again, it took me a while to get this chapter done, or well, to get started.
I was on holiday for three weeks, and some things happened before that, so writing wasn't exactly on top of my list, but once I finally had the time and peace of mind to open my laptop, I wrote the entire chapter in one day. :D
I have to say, the continuous support from all of you really motivates me as well, so thank you for that!

Anyway, enough with the chit-chat.
Go read the next chapter and please feel free to leave a review once you're done, always very much appreciated!

See you guys next time!
Later!

"The connection… It's just… gone."

Modo's breathing became a tad bit heavier at seeing the panicked look on Vinnie's face.
It brought back so many memories, memories he wished he didn't have.
Without taking his gaze away from his baby bro, he briefly brushed a finger over his bionic arm almost regretfully as he tried really hard not to panic as well.
"What do you mean, it's gone?"
A soft whimper escaped Vinnie's lips, and he yanked his helmet off, for the thing suddenly felt like it was about to suffocate him.
"I mean it exactly as I said it, man. I can't feel her anymore…"
His voice cracked with emotion, and he looked at Modo almost pleadingly.
"How are we supposed to find her if I can't feel her anymore?"

In all fairness, Modo considered himself lucky that Vinnie didn't ask him why the connection was gone in the first place because the answer to that wouldn't be pretty and he didn't want to be the one to explain how bad of a turn this was.
Above all, he didn't want to be the one to break his youngest bro's heart.
He had done it before, by telling him that Harley was gone.
That he had to let her go.
That he had to move on.
That he had to stop living in the past.
The look on his face when he did that still haunted him in his sleep till this very day.
Never had he seen his little bro so lost, until now.
Now, it was happening all over again, and the same feeling of helplessness washed over him.
It was just like he said.
This, all this, brought back some very nasty memories.

Heaving a somewhat frustrated sigh, Modo took a quick look around him, desperately searching for something that could help him find the words to answer Vinnie's question.
Unfortunately, all he saw were trees and darkness.
Such thick darkness…

"Why are we stopping?"

Throttle's husky voice broke the somewhat ominous silence, a silence that could only belong to the blackness they were currently surrounded with, and Modo felt a pang of relief by hearing the comforting sounds of his tan-furred bro's voice.
Throttle surely knew how to fix this mess.
He always did, right?
So why would today be any different?
His visible eye darted from the gloomy darkness to his leader, who just rested his weathered biker boots on the forestry ground as his bike came to a halt.
He glanced at Vinnie before his questionable gaze landed on Modo, who shrugged as helpless as he felt right now.
"The connection is gone."

Throttle's jaw tightened, but his face remained blank as he too took in their surroundings.
It seemed like a laid-back response, but Modo knew better as he knew Throttle like the back of his bionic hand, and it only confirmed what he already figured out the moment Vinnie told him that the connection was gone.
This was bad.
As in catastrophically bad.
His stomach slowly tied into a knot, and he looked down at his fiddling fingers.
Throttle's silence was even worse than the one lingering in the forest they were currently finding themselves in, and the tension rose to such an extent that his fur bristled.

Tension coming from his dearest young brother, one he didn't dare to look at for he knew he wouldn't be able to handle the look on his face.
Picturing vividly how he was sitting there on his bike, staring at Throttle with a mix of hope, dread, and disbelief as he waited for him to say something was already enough for him to practically burst out of his fur, so there was just no way that he was able to watch the picture come to life.
To witness Vinnie concluding the same as he just did.
They were too late.
After all, a connection forged out of true love didn't just vanish without good reason.
In fact, there could only be one reason why it was gone.
"Oh, momma…", he breathed almost noiselessly, the air leaving his mouth taking all of his faith and hope with it, and he closed his one eye for a moment.

The silence seemed to become even more smothering.
It was almost as if the oxygen was sucked out of the air, and Vinnie's breathing became heavier and heavier with every second that ticked by as he, indeed, stared at Throttle, waiting for him to say something.
He had to say something.
At this point, he didn't even care what he would say, as long as he would say something.
Anything.
But he didn't.
All he did was slowly turn his head toward his youngest bro, and the look on his face literally took Vinnie's breath away.
"No."

The word already left his mouth before he could stop it.
If only he recognized his own voice, but he didn't.
It sounded like the one of a stranger, but he ignored it as he stubbornly shook his head.
"No. This isn't happening. Not again…"
The last two words were nothing but a whisper, his voice smothered by the insufferable pain that now slowly entered his body.
Pain that was so familiar yet so estranged.
This couldn't be real.
This couldn't be happening.
He did not lose her just now.
Or did he…?

A muffled sound came over his lips as the pain suddenly intensified at the speed of light, and Vinnie slid off his bike in some feeble attempt to escape from this horrible feeling.
But his legs weren't able to carry his weight, and he dropped to his knees with a soft gasp.
"Oh, Gods, Charley…no…"
His hands clenched into fists as he bowed his head, hardly able to breathe due to the grief pressing its heavy weight on his entire soul.
And then there was the gaping hole in his heart…
"No, no, no… I can't… I just… Charley, please… come back to me…"

His breaking voice made Modo flinch with every word he spoke, and he too clenched his fists as he tried very hard to block out his brother's pain, but it was hard, if not impossible.
Despair came over him, and he raised his head to look at Throttle, hoping to see something that would ease his nerves but his friend only looked back at him just as helpless.
Modo's stomach cramped in the most unpleasant way.
Throttle didn't do helpless.
It just wasn't his style, and yet, here he was.
Being helpless.
So it was true.
All hope was gone…
A grunt escaped between his clenched teeth as he jerked his head toward the forest, his gaze desperately searching for…
Yeah, for what?
A miracle?
Miracles didn't exist.
His entire life was proof of that.

Without warning, a giant wave of anger washed over him.
Anger forged out of despair, and the edges of his vision colored red as his eye started to glow.
How was this even fair?
How could whoever ran the universe be this cruel?
Hadn't they had enough losses?
Enough misery?
Apparently not.
And it made him furious all of a sudden.
Even beyond that, and without thinking, he raised his bionic arm.
The laser weapon inside it smoothly zoomed out of its hiding place, and the sound of it made him even angrier, as far as that goes.

Gods, how much he hated this life.
How much he hated this world, this cruel world.
If only love could prevail, but it never stood a chance.
His broken brother lying on the ground weeping for another lost love only confirmed that.
It confirmed once again that love wasn't strong enough.
No.
It was hate that conquered all.
It would always be hate.
And he hated it.

Gritting his teeth, he aimed at one of the trees, deep down knowing that blowing it to smithereens wouldn't be exactly helpful, but in his defense, he really wanted to blow something up.
However, right before he took the shot, he saw something.
Something that changed everything, and his lips twitched as his anger vanished like smoke in the wind.
Something else took its place, and the lightness he suddenly experienced was not to express in words.
So perhaps there was still hope after all.
And where there's hope, there's love.
As the color of vision turned back to normal again, he lowered his arm, and the deadly weapon zoomed back inside as he made his way over to Vinnie.
When he reached the little bundle on the ground that was his baby brother, he crouched next to him and rested a hand on his shoulder.
"Vincent, look."

It was all he said, but the tone of his voice was somehow enough for Vinnie to look up.
Modo merely pointed at what he just saw, and Vinnie followed his finger with his eyes.
For a brief moment, nothing happened, but then Vinnie realized what he was looking at, and within seconds, his face became entirely blank.
"It's a house", he said tonelessly, and Modo nodded with a little smile, somehow endeared by the small-sounding voice of his little bro.
"It is. A wooden house, to be exact."
A shadow flickered across Vinnie's face as the hatred that had driven him before nestled itself in his heart again.
He wasn't stupid, nor was he as hopeful as Modo suddenly seemed to be.
He didn't expect to walk into that house and find Charley alive and kicking.
If that was the case, he would've still felt her.
So yeah, it was probably safe to say that it was too late for Charley, just as it had been too late for Harley.
But maybe, just maybe…
…destiny granted him some sweet ol' revenge this time, and oh boy, how much he liked the sound of that.
He could practically taste his enemy's blood in his mouth.
Sweet… indeed.

…

"We don't even know if this is the house, guys. What if it isn't? We'd rudely disrupt someone's vacation", O'Neill pointed out the obvious as he watched the house through the small binoculars he always brought with him.
Along with his Martian friends, he was lying in the bushes on his belly to assess the situation, but so far, there wasn't much to see.
Nothing more than a simple wooden cabin, one of a million that were scattered throughout the USA and so he wasn't entirely sure if this was the place they were looking for.
Modo, however, was still hopeful.
"But what if it is? We could still catch the bad guy."
"Assuming he's still there", O'Neill muttered softly, referring to the fact that the house seemed to be entirely deserted as there wasn't a single light on.
Then again, it was night, so maybe whoever was in there was peacefully asleep and unaware of the upcoming alien invasion.
Perhaps they should keep it that way.

Throttle shifted his weight a little as he pushed a little button on his helmet to zoom in further with a furrowed brow, and after another thorough examination, he found what he was looking for.
"There. You see it?", and he pointed in the direction of one of the windows.
"It's nailed shut. Now, I may not know much about humans, but boarding up a vacation home doesn't really make sense to me. Not if you mean no harm. Not if you have nothing to hide."
Not even O'Neill could argue with that, and while heaving a somewhat frustrated sigh, the bald policeman lowered his binoculars so he could look at the tan Martian lying next to him.
"So what's the plan? I mean, we still need to have a plan. We have no idea what to expect once we enter that house."

Throttle glanced at Vinnie from the corner of his eye, who was awfully quiet, but that was to be expected.
This mission just turned from a rescue mission to a still-not-so-simple bust, which was exactly what worried Throttle.
They needed the man alive.
But what would Vinnie do once he was standing face to face with the killer of his one and true love?
The answer to that wasn't pretty, and thus, he kept racking his brain as to how he would be able to control his white-furred brother when the moment was there, but so far, there was nothing.
Nothing but the nasty feeling that shit was about to hit the fan and that there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Maybe the man had it coming.
After all, he wasn't just a killer.
He was evil.
Beyond that.
He didn't deserve the air he was breathing, and yet here he was, trying to find a way to protect this foul human being, or at least, to keep him alive.
What a strange world.
What a fucked-up situation.
"You need evidence, right?", he asked as he, almost regretfully, took his gaze away from Vinnie to look back at the house.
O'Neill nodded.
"The more the better. We're gonna need everything there is to put this guy behind bars for the rest of his life."

"There's a dead body in there. I'm sure that will suffice."

They all turned their heads toward Vinnie, who finally spoke after being silent for way too long.
His voice was hoarse from suppressed emotions, but there was a certain raw edge on it that made Throttle uneasy.
Very, very uneasy.
"We still don't know for sure…", he started after a relatively long silence, but Vinnie shook his head with a tight jaw.
"Spare me the whole 'there still hope' speech. She's dead and we all know it."
His voice went up a little when he said the word 'dead', and though it was very subtle and hardly audible, it somehow broke Throttle's heart.
Goddammit.
He didn't deserve this.
Not even the slightest.
Not after losing Harley the way he did.
If only he could make it better, but there were literally no words invented to make Vinnie feel better right now.

A fact that made him uncharacteristically angry, actually.
He didn't get angry that easily, unless Pux was involved maybe, but still.
It just wasn't like him.
But he was now.
Angry.
Angry at this man for crushing Vinnie's hopes and dreams.
What frustrated him the most was that he knew he couldn't act on it.
He couldn't let his emotions get the best of him.
As always, it was the bigger picture that mattered and so, he took a deep breath before he scrambled back to his feet.
"You want a plan? Well, here's one - we catch him and gather as much evidence as possible to make sure this guy will never see the light of day again."
It was simple, yes.
But sufficient.
And that was all they needed.

…

After deciding that it was for the best to do this on foot, all to keep the element of surprise, the group came into action, and as they carefully approached the house, Throttle kept glancing at Vinnie from time to time, but for once, his face wasn't the open book like it always was.
There was only this odd-feeling energy coming off his body like electric waves, but it wasn't just anger, Throttle could tell.
There was something else lurking in the shadows of his soul, something that could only be hatred, and Throttle almost opened his mouth to tell his white-furred bro that perhaps it was better to sit this one out.
However, he said nothing, knowing it wouldn't make any difference.
He would never listen, not this time, and who could blame him?
Still…

"Vin, are you sure you're ready to see whatever we're gonna find inside that house?", he asked softly as his shoulder briefly but gently made contact with Vinnie's.
"I mean, what if she's still there…?"
…cut open with her insides hanging out of her belly?
Of course, he didn't say the last part out loud, but he didn't have to.
Vinnie knew damn well what he was getting at, judging the way his eyes flared up for a second.
"I'll manage", was all he said, and Throttle nodded, for the first time since forever not knowing what to say as every word or line he came up with felt utterly meaningless.
Next to that, it kind of felt like he was knocking on a closed door, almost as if Vinnie wasn't there.
A classic case of 'the lights are on but nobody's home'.
If only it didn't make him so restless, but it did.
Even more so, it scared the shit out of him.
"Just…", he started but trailed off again the moment that he did, and he rested a hand on Vinnie's shoulder, only to give it a gentle squeeze.
…just don't kill him. It won't help you. I won't make you feel better. It won't take your pain away. It won't bring Charley back. It will only make things worse…
"Just know that I'm right there with you. I'll always be with you. You're not alone."

Instead of telling him to go to hell with his mushy lovey-dovey nonsense, Vinnie glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, his eyes glistening with gratefulness for a brief moment before they became emptily cold again, and Throttle gave his shoulder another squeeze before he let him go and quickened his pace, leaving Vinnie alone with his thoughts.
Vinnie lowered his gaze, watching his feet walking through the tall grass between the trees, and a single tear trickled down his cheek.
"Thanks, bro…", he whispered so softly that not even Martian ears would be able to hear it.
If only he could give Throttle what he wanted.
But he couldn't.
It was like Pux said.
The man needed to pay.
Big time.

Even if it would cost him another piece of soul, knowing that was exactly what Throttle was trying to protect him from.
But he forgot one major important thing.
And that was that there was nothing he wouldn't do for his Charley-girl, no matter the costs.
And dead or not, she was still his girl.
She would always be his girl.
Oh, Charley…
I'm so… so sorry.

…

When they reached the house, Throttle halted as he held his fist next to his ear to signal the others to stop as well, which they did.
Pricking his ears, Modo looked at the house, but there was nothing.
Nothing but silence and darkness.
"Maybe we should…"
'…split up', he wanted to say, but before he could even finish his sentence, Vinnie already marched to the door, and without slowing down, he raised his right foot and kicked the door open.
The thing almost flew out of its hinges, but slammed to the wall instead with a loud bang, making the others flinch, and O'Neill glared at Throttle with slightly flaring nostrils.
"You said he would control himself."
Throttle only grunted in response, and shaking his head, he quickly followed Vinnie inside with Modo and O'Neill close behind him.

Once he stepped inside, Vinnie didn't stop, not even to give his eyes some time to get used to the dusky darkness.
There was only one thing on his mind and that was to find the guy responsible for the pain he was in.
"Vincent, stop", he vaguely heard Throttle order him from behind, but he quickly dodged the hand he knew would follow to stop him and made his way through the living room.
Although the connection was gone, for some reason that was unknown to him, he still knew exactly where to go, and soon thereafter, his furry fingers enclosed the doorknob that led to the large pantry adjacent to the kitchen.
There was a part of him that wanted to stop, to at least try to prepare himself for what he was about to see, but there just wasn't enough time.
His current company would try to stop him, and he didn't want to be stopped.
All he wanted was to hurt the man who took away his only hope.
With slightly trembling lips, he turned the doorknob.
There was a soft click, followed by loud creaking as the door slowly opened, and Vinnie subconsciously held his breath.

The first thing that hit him was the smell, even while he wasn't even really breathing.
It was the smell that defined hospitals, yet it was stained with something that was, unfortunately, all too familiar to him.
The scent of death.
A shiver ran down his spine, but he managed to stay put as his gaze wandered through the room.
He recognized it as the room Charley had shown him, and although it was kind of misplaced, a pang of relief joined the already exhausting mix of emotions.
At least he was at the right place.
Now all he had to do was find the man who took everything from him…
His red eyes eventually landed on a shadow standing a few feet away from him.
Bingo.

The man was standing with his back toward him, slightly bent over something that Vinnie couldn't see.
Perhaps he didn't even want to see.
Perhaps it was a good thing that even despite the bright light on the ceiling, all he saw was the man's back.
Speaking of which, the man's back clearly stiffened the moment the door opened, but even though he did stand up straight, he didn't turn around.
He just stood there, solid like a statue, and Vinnie carefully took a few steps closer to him, knowing he had to play this smart instead of just jumping on his back to snap his neck.
This man wasn't just a man, after all.
He wasn't like the guy he killed in that alley.
No, this man was smart, and cold, and calculated.
It could be deadly to underestimate him, and although death sounded very tempting to at least escape this horrible gaping hole in his heart, he knew he wouldn't be at peace if he didn't at least avenge Charley's death before he would let out his last breath.

"You found me."

The man's deep yet slightly drawling voice suddenly echoed through the room, thereby breaking the almost insufferable silence.
Vinnie slowly halted, and so did Modo and Throttle in the door opening behind him.
O'Neill tried to walk inside, probably to stop Vinnie from whatever he was planning on doing, but Throttle grabbed him by the arm right before he could, knowing like no other that a little caution was in order.
It always was when Vinnie was acting as erratic as he did now.
O'Neill gave him a deadly glare, but the one Throttle shot back was even deadlier, and thus, the grumpy detective remained where he was, although with reluctance.
Vinnie, however, was unaware of all this as he stood there, trying to figure out the man's game plan.
He had to have a game plan.
He wasn't stupid, after all.

"She said you'd find me. I told her you wouldn't, and yet here you are. You even brought some friends. I have to say I'm impressed."

Vinnie bit his slightly shaking lower lip as he clenched and unclenched his hands to keep the blood flowing.
He needed to keep the blood flowing.
All to stay sharp.
All to spread the hatred he felt for the man through his entire body.
To give him the strength he so desperately needed right now.
While he was doing that, he came into movement again, not planning on letting the man distract him, for he realized that was exactly what he was doing.
So that's his plan, huh?
Distracting him.
Well, not today.
"Vincent!", Throttle hissed from behind him the moment his upset little bro set another step in the killer's direction, but again, Vinnie ignored him.
Or actually, he didn't even hear him.
Not really, that is.
There was only the man, the almost insatiable need to end him, and this strange high beep in his ears.

"She also said you'd kill me…"

While he was talking, the man gradually turned around, and Vinnie stopped again the moment he looked into the man's eyes.
Eyes so evil it took his breath away as the same feeling he felt before when he met the man in the store washed over him.
But he didn't back down.
He didn't give in to the small pang of fear he felt when he gazed into the man's ice-cold blue eyes.
No.
He would never back down.
Never.
The man might be dangerous, but he was, too.
Perhaps even more than him.
After all, he was a mouse with nothing left to lose.

"So would you? Kill me?", the man asked calmly as he stood there, and he entwined his gloved fingers before he rested his hands on his stomach.
Vinnie's eyes took in every detail of the man's outfit, which was odd, to say the least.
He remembered seeing doctors wearing it on TV, making him come to the conclusion that it had to be a surgical outfit.
A strange-feeling pang of nausea made his stomach cramp, which only got worse when his gaze landed on the man's folded hands.
His hands stained with fresh blood, to be exact.
Charley's blood…
For a brief moment, his confidence faltered dangerously.
For a brief moment, the insufferable anguish threatened to take over as he once realized what he had lost, but he managed to grab himself together right before he broke like he always did, and he raised his eyes to look the man in the eye with his head held high and his slightly trembling lips in a tight line.
"Without blinking. You took something from me. Something that belonged to me. Nobody takes something that is mine without paying the price."

His voice was dangerously low yet steady, much to his relief.
He seemed to be holding his own, something he was deep down quite proud of considering the wreck he turned into the moment the connection vanished like snow under the sun.
But it was just like he said - hatred was such a great motivator.
However, the man didn't seem to be done testing him.
With a certain flair, he lifted his right eyebrow, giving him a sort of creepy slash arrogant expression before he stepped aside, waving his arm almost gracefully.
"You mean her?"

He didn't want to look.
He really didn't.
He wasn't ready.
He would never be ready, and yet, Vinnie's eyes darted from the man to what was hidden behind him until now.
It turned out to be a table made of steel on wheels, and on it lay his beloved Charley girl.
His dearest Charlene.
His breath got stuck in his throat and his heart did a little dance, but not in a pleasant way.
Not in the way it always fluttered through his chest whenever he laid eyes on her.
No, this little dance only made him sick to the stomach.
Or actually, there wasn't really a way to describe what it did to him to see Charley lying there, and he swallowed with difficulty as his gaze wandered from her cute little feet all the way up to her pale face.
Gone were the rosy cheeks.
Gone was the playful smile curling her lips.
Gone was his Charley-girl.
All there was left was a shell.

In a way, she kind of looked the same, yet at the same time, he hardly recognized her, and his vision blurred.
If only he could look into those insanely green eyes of her.
If only she would look back at him the way she always looked at him - frisky and lovingly.
But her eyes were partially closed, and all he saw through her beautiful curly lashes was the whitish color of her eyeballs.
His knees grew weak, and he sank to the floor.
He didn't want to.
He didn't want to cave.
He didn't want to show this man his weakness, but there was simply no other choice.
Even more so, he had shown the man his weakness the moment he laid his filthy hands on said weakness in the store.
And now here she was.
Dead.
Cut open like some kind of animal.
A strange wailing sound came over his lips as he bent over, or maybe it was a muffled sob, he had no idea.
All he knew was that his body tried to vent at least some of this unbearable pain, but it didn't help.
Not even the slightest.

Behind him, Modo wanted to walk inside the room, all because he couldn't stand the fact that his little brother was sitting there, suffering helplessly and alone, but although it cost him greatly, Throttle stopped him.
The grey Martian looked down at him, his eye flickering red due to his emotions that were almost completely overwhelming him.
"He needs us."
Throttle pointed at the gun lying close to Charley on the table.
"I know, but one wrong move and he blows Vinnie's brains out. It's too risky. For now, we have to play along", he whispered, highly agitated by all this.
Just like Modo, all he wanted was to walk inside the room and hold Vinnie till the end of time, which wasn't really manly and macho, but he couldn't care less about that.

However, their hands were tied for now.
The man was too unpredictable, and judging his muscular body, blessed with quick reflexes and good training.
Sure, Vinnie was too, but he was clearly out of order.
In other words, he was sitting ducks.
So, no matter how much it pained him, Throttle knew this wasn't the time to interfere.
They had to let the man play his little game while they waited for the right moment to take back control.
All to protect Vinnie.
He had to protect Vinnie.
He couldn't lose him.
He merely couldn't afford it.
It would literally tear him apart.

The man looked down at Vinnie with a smile on his face, clearly, he was highly enjoying the young Martian's misery as he now rested his hand on Charley's ankle.
"Not so pretty now anymore, huh? It's strange, what death does to a person."
While he was talking, his finger mildly rubbed the skin on the side of Charley's foot.
It was almost impressive how he managed to make such a simple movement so… foul.
So disgraceful, and Vinnie's breathing became heavier and heavier as he watched the man touching her.
All he wanted was to get up and single-handedly separate his head from his torso, but the thing was, he didn't have a single spark of energy left inside of him.
Seeing Charley lying there, bathing in blood and those scary eyes of hers staring up completely paralyzed him.
Although the last thing he wanted to do was admit it, the man was right.
It really was strange what death did to a person.
Even after all his losses, he never got used to the sight of death.
It had only scarred him for life.
Today was no different.

Completely defeated, he lowered his head and as he closed his eyes, a single tear flowed down his furry cheek.
He was done.
Completely and utterly broken.
There was nothing left to fight for.
And so the unthinkable happened.
It was a human that broke the fiercest hero of all time.
Bravo.

It was as if the man came to the same conclusion, for his smile grew even bigger, as far as that goes, although it wasn't really a smile but more like a creepy smirk as it didn't reach his cold eyes.
"I have to ask though. When you were talking about what's yours, did you really mean her…-"
While he was talking, his hand wandered over Charley's leg all the way up to the cut in her belly.
"-...or did you mean the thing that's still inside of her?"
He practically spat out the word 'thing', and Vinnie flinched, but not because of the resentment the man was able to put into one word.
No, it felt more like he got struck by lighting the moment the man mentioned the baby, but again, not in a pleasant way.
Still.

The effect of this odd phenomenon was all he needed, for there emerged something else out of the depths of his shattered soul.
Something that could be best described as hatred, but it wasn't like what he had felt before.
That was nothing compared to what he was feeling right now, and his hands, which were resting on his upper legs, started to tremble.
Soon thereafter, his entire body was quivering under the immense pressure of the hate that now spread through his veins like wildfire.
But instead of acting on it without thinking, he decided to fall back on his earlier plan.
The very one he made in the garage right before Pux bandaged his wrist.
It was still a good plan.

Almost in slow motion, he lifted his tail, something that didn't go unnoticed by Throttle, who was still standing in the door opening along with Modo and O'Neill, feeling utterly helpless and almost exploding out of his fur by seeing Vinnie breaking down right in front of him.
But something was changing.
Vinnie's long white tail now lingered in the air, which was strange as it didn't match his current state.
It should be lying on the floor like a lifeless snake as it did only seconds ago, just as defeated as Vinnie was, and yet here it was.
As if it was ready to grab something…
Rubbing his chin, Throttle followed the angle of the tail with his eyes, and suddenly, it just clicked.
Suddenly, he knew exactly what Vinnie's plan had been all along.

Although with some healthy reluctance, he had to admit that it was a good plan, one he never would have agreed with if Charley was still breathing.
But things were different now.
And thus, Throttle made a decision.
One he should have made way sooner, he now realized.
He always struggled to find the right balance between being a leader and being a bro, but seeing Vinnie's pain, feeling it like it was his own certainly put things into perspective.
There was no such thing as a right balance.
There was only family.
And family was everything.

Without giving him a heads up, Throttle suddenly pushed O'Neill up against the wall and reached for something under his khaki jacket.
Before the detective could even comprehend what was happening here, the tan Martian already had his gun pulled out of the holster that was hidden under his jacket.

"Vinnie! Catch!"

Vinnie didn't even look.
He just leaped to his feet while his right hand plucked O'Neill's gun from the air, his burning gaze fixed on the man.
And he was glad that he had, otherwise, he would have missed the small glance of surprise in his blue eyes.
For some reason, knowing that he had accomplished catching this allegedly invincible man off guard made him feel so powerful all of a sudden, and despite everything, the left corner of his mouth curled up.
"She was right, you know", he said as he aimed the gun at the man's head.
"I always find my enemies. And I always kill them."

The man's eyes slightly widened, and he reached for the gun that was lying close to his hand, but before he could even touch it, Vinnie already pulled the trigger.
A loud bang, the sound of something splashing open and a muffled thump followed after that, and while letting out his breath, Vinnie lowered the gun without taking his gaze away from the partially exploded head of the man.
So perhaps Stoker was right.
Hatred, revenge…
It didn't take away one's pain.
It didn't bring those who one had lost back.
But damn, it still felt good.
So, so good.

All this happened in a split second, so by the time the man's dead body hit the ground, O'Neill finally realized what just happened, and he leaned against the doorframe with his hands resting on his knees.
"Jesus Christ", he breathed, shaking his head.
"You promised me that we would do this my way. You promised me…"
Throttle shot him a guilt-ridden look.
"I know. I'm sorry, but sometimes you just gotta act in the moment."
The detective grunted.
"You could at least have given me a heads up. You almost gave me a heart attack just now, holy shit…"
He then let his burning gaze land on Vinnie, who still stood there with O'Neill's gun in his hand.
Even O'Neill couldn't deny that the young Martian looked very lost and profoundly sad, but since being the moral support kind of guy wasn't really his cup of vodka, he just cut to the chase.
"You've been planning this the whole time, haven't you? Even you know that a bullet wound is far easier to explain than one made by laser."

Vinnie's visible eyebrow twitched, and he looked back at O'Neill with a blank face.
"Yup. Just as I know that I have to use this one…-"
He took the murderer's gun off the table, thereby carefully avoiding touching Charley before he turned around with a somewhat apologetic look on his face.
"-...to shoot you."
Again, without any form of hesitation, he pulled the trigger and with a raw scream, the detective went down.
"GodDAMMIT!", he cursed loudly between clenched teeth as he grabbed his now bleeding shoulder.
"This hurts like a motherfucker!"
Modo stood next to him, looking a little lost as watched O'Neill perish at his feet.
Then, he raised his head to give Throttle a puzzled look.
"What just happened here?"

But instead of Throttle, it was O'Neill who answered.
"Self defense", he growled as he pushed himself up before slumping against the wall, still holding his shoulder with his face twisted in a mask of pain.
"It's clever but FUCK! I could've used a goddamn heads up! AGAIN! What is the matter with you Martian's, huh?! Is it really so much to ask to involve your human sidekick?! JESUS!"
Throttle heaved a sigh while shrugging one shoulder.
"It wasn't my plan. I just improvised. Sorry."
"Of course you did", O'Neill muttered, shaking his head.
"You guys watch too much television. Someone should cut your hours."
"It'll work, right?", Vinnie asked, his voice smoky and almost emotionless.
The very cranky detective nodded with his eyes closed.
"I'll make it work. Now go, so I can call it in."

Modo blinked his one eye, still not catching on.
"Call it in?"
Throttle rested a hand on his arm while gently pushing him towards the door.
"I'll explain everything but right now, we have to go."
Vinnie watched them walk to the door, and both of the guns he was still holding clattered on the floor when a giant wave of panic suddenly washed over him.
Panic triggered by the thought that he had to leave Charley here, and he shook his head.
"No wait, I need to…"
He turned his head toward her, and his lower lip started to shake.
"I need to say goodbye…"

O'Neill opened his mouth to protest, but Throttle gave him a gentle nudge with his knee to stop him.
"A few minutes won't kill you or your case."
"That's easy for you to say. You're not the one bleeding out on a fucking crime scene", O'Neill snapped back.
"You're not bleeding out. It was a good shot. He missed all major arteries. It's just a flesh wound", the tan Martian contradicted calmly, although he did feel a little guilty and so, he gave the sullen detective another friendly nudge.
"You took one for the team. You should be proud of yourself."
It was only meant to cheer him up, but O'Neill was obviously beyond that.
"Yay me", he said sarcastically as he rested his head against the wall.
"Five minutes, tops."

Oblivious to their discussion, Vinnie slowly moved closer to the table.
Even though he didn't want to, his eyes were drawn to the cut in Charley's belly.
If anything, it was quite big.
Big enough for two hands of a killer to fit.
To pull out her child…
…their child.
Without really realizing what he was doing, he pulled a chair from behind him and sat down, for his knees were already starting to get wobbly again.
That seemed to happen a lot today.
Swallowing with difficulty, Vinnie tore his gaze loose from the wound and his red eyes now followed his hand that reached out to her.
It floated above her forehead for a brief moment, but then he lowered it, subconsciously preparing himself for feeling her cold skin under his fingers.

However, the moment he rested his hand on her forehead, he frowned.
She wasn't cold.
Not even close.
In fact, she felt kind of… hot.
Like she was having a fever or something, but that was impossible, right?
Fever didn't strike the dead.
His heart made a little jump in his chest, and his breathing became a tad bit heavier as his eyes darted from his hand to her chest.
A small muscle close to his nose twitched as he stared at her chest, but nothing happened, and the frown on his face grew even deeper.
This was strange, to say the least.

He looked back at the hand that was still resting on her forehead, and before he could possibly chicken out, his fingers slid down to her neck.
After letting out his breath, he closed his eyes.
Again, nothing happened.
There was just nothing.
No movement, no pulse… nothing.
And he suddenly hated himself for hoping that there was.
How uncharacteristically naive of him to think that she was still here with him, and while gnashing his teeth, he pulled back his hand.
However, right before he did, he suddenly felt something.
It was ever so slightly, but it was definitely there.
A pulse, and his eyes grew big.
"Holy shit."
He looked at his bros, his entire body shuddering with both disbelief and relief.
"She's still alive."