The following is a piece of fan fiction based on Biker Mice From Mars. All characters were created by Rick Ungar, original story by Tom Tataranowicz, and are not my property.
This is an AU retelling of BMFM and explores mature subject matter including death, violence, abuse, sex (con and noncon), torture, and mutilation. Reader's discretion is advised. Some character history has been altered from their original source but like I said, this is an AU.
TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: Implied abuse & s/a; implied PTSD/Panic attacks
Chapter- 5
Charley was always an early riser. She lay down on the lower bunk furthest from the door and stared at the metal frame above her. She had already darned the tail pockets in the pants and coveralls she had been provided. Since she couldn't sleep, the only thing she had to do in this room was think about the last six months. She hated it.
Charley wore a grey full sleeve coverall. If her bruises were fully covered, she wouldn't have to think of them. The other intrusive thoughts, however, crept into her mind and made her writhe in pain. Pain and disgust.
She rolled over onto her side and clutched the mattress beneath her. Her toes curled inwards, and her legs wrapped around themselves to tightly close her knees and thighs; protecting herself from an attack that wasn't coming. Her eyes squeezed shut and her breathing became labored as she mentally tried to talk herself down from a panic attack.
You're safe now. You survived. They can't hurt you. You survived. You're safe. You're safe.
Charley took one long exhale as she felt her body relax. She allowed herself to stay in that moment of calm before she decided to get up. It a corner of her room there was a small table with four chairs, one of the chairs had been shimmed under the doorknob to prevent anyone from entering her room. She placed the chair back with the others, unlocked the door and stepped out into the hallway. No one else seemed to be awake, and with no natural light in the cave, Charley couldn't tell if it was night or day. From her recollection, the garage from which they entered was down the right end of the hall, so that's where she went.
It didn't take her too long to find what she was looking for. Charley couldn't really make out the type of bikes they were driving, they were Martian bikes after all. Most were black and looked like they had the frame of a café racer. The two exceptions were the blue cruiser that Modo rode, and Vinnie's red sport. Behind the bikes was a work bench with an assortment of tools in disarray. There was a backless stool at the work bench, on it sat Stoker. His arms were crossed at his chest, his legs were crossed over his knee, and he was leaning against the bench for support. Charley didn't know how long he had been waiting for her.
"You're up early," Stoker said.
"Early to bed, early to rise," Charley shrugged. "Figured I get started on the bikes instead of staring at the ceiling. What about you?"
"Waitin' for you to show up." Stoker got up from his seat as he watched Charley make her way to Modo's bike. "So, tell me why you're really doing this."
Charley started up the blue bike and let it run idle, she tilted her head to the right as she carefully listened to the hum of the engine. "I told you last night, I owe those mice. So far, they have been nothing but kind to me and I'd like to pay them back." She looked up at Stoker, "I also need to defend my pride after you questioned my abilities." Stoker let out a small laugh.
Charley then tested the breaks and gave the engine a few revs. "Working keeps my mind from wandering. I focus on one thing." She turned off Modo's bike and repeated the same steps with Vinnie's.
"I'm sorry if I haven't been welcoming to you."
Charley frowned as she squatted down to examine Vinnie's rear wheel. "I don't blame you. I'm not sure if I can trust you guys either." She stood up to face Stoker, "so far, you guys haven't given me a reason not to, I hope I can do the same for you."
"That seems fair enough."
Charley gave him a little smile and went back to frowning at the red bike. "This bike doesn't need a tune-up; it needs an overhaul."
Charley didn't have the time or resources for an overhaul, but she was able to replace the oil, break fluids on Modo's bike. Throttle needed a new timing chain and fluid changes. Vinnie had a fluid change, had his front wheel realigned, and had tires replaced; but Charley was worried about the rear shock absorbers.
"I MacGyvered some metal cement to hold the left shock absorber in place but it's really just a temporary fix until I can get the right parts." Unfortunately, he was more interested in showing off his stunts: burnouts, wheelies, circles, everything Charley had seen before. Under different circumstances she might have been impressed but she knew the only thing keeping the shock absorber from snapping in half was God's good grace and her improvised cement that still needed time to cure.
"SERIOUSLY VINNIE!" Charley shouted over the roar of engines. "YOU NEED TO TAKE IT EASY ON YOUR BIKE!"
He wasn't listening. None of the three mice were listening. Their bikes hadn't run as well as they did now for months, and the bros were more interested in racing each other than heeding Charley's warnings.
"Don't take it personally," Stoker laughed at her side. "I gave up on them listening to me ages ago. You did a great job though. I am impressed."
Charley watched helplessly as the three race off into the horizon. "I have a feeling like I'll be working on those bikes again sooner than I anticipated."
Stoker walked ahead and motioned for Charley to follow her to the exit. "I'll show you where you can find spare parts."
Charley followed Stoker on a pathway outside his base. It trailed along the northern edge of the volcano and was wide enough for two people, or mice, to travel side by side. There were tell-tale signs of bike tracks heading in both directions. They had not gone far, less than a quarter of a mile, when they came to a steep drop in the volcano's face. Before her were two trails: one was a steep set of stairs carved out of the mountain, the other was a sloping switch-back trail clearly meant for vehicles. Both trails led to the bottom of the volcanic mountain and to a smaller mountain of assorted vehicles, mechanical odds and ends, towered in disarray.
"What the hell is that?" Charley asked
"It's a scrapyard," Stoker replied. "You don't have scrapyards on Earth?"
"Yeah, but they usually look like organized chaos. This is just… chaos! If I touch anything on that pile it will probably just topple over and crush me."
"Oh, it's not that bad," Stoker teased. "We've been taking from and adding to scrap mountain for years and no one has gotten fatally injured."
"Fatally?" Charley was staring daggers at Stoker.
Stoker in return gave Charley a toothy grin. "I'll help you look for the parts you need."
The trip down to the scrap mountain was a lot easier than up Mount Ascraeus. Charley and Stoker were limited to only what they could carry, she figured it would take two or three more trips to get everything she wanted, but they managed to grab the essentials on that trip back. This worked out well enough as by the time she and Stoker arrived back at the garage, the three joy riders had returned.
"I gotta say, Charlene, I don't remember the last time Lil' Hoss ran this well," Modo said as he dismounted.
"I suppose once you get all the rides in top gear, we can all get back to doing some real work," Throttle added.
"Yeah, like finally finding Harley" Vinnie said. He began to caress the frame of his cherry red ride. "The way my baby handled out there, I could get down to the southern hemisphere and back. I'll ride over any inch of this planet until I find her."
"No Vinnie," said Stoker. "I'm calling the search of."
Modo and Throttle shrunk away a bit while Vinnie tensed up. His stopped caressing his bike and instead held onto the frame. His grip was strong enough that Charley thought he could crush the metal frame like a flimsy aluminum can. She could almost see the anger radiating from him. Charley stepped back until her body was against the wall and then made herself feel as small as she possibly could.
"The fuck you mean by that, Stoker?" asked Vinnie.
Stoker walked up to the younger mouse. His chest out and ready to square up. The other two weren't going to back him up, but he knew they weren't going to back up Vinnie either. "It's been long enough, and I need my men, all my men, ready for the next mission. We are putting this search on hold."
"More like you're giving up," Vinnie spat. "It may be easy for you to call it quits but not me!"
"You think this is easy for me!" Charley flinched as Stoker raised his voice. "You act like you're the only one here who cared about Harley! I did; we all cared about her. And if she were here right now, she would tell you to get your act together because we still have a planet to save."
Vinnie looked to Throttle and Modo for reinforcement. His expression turning from one of anger to betrayal as his best friends, his brothers, the only other mice on this planet he considered family, simply shook their heads. When his gaze fell upon Charley, she quickly looked to the ground to avoid eye contact.
Stoker spoke up again. "A military unit will be here in a couple of days to discuss a joint mission. This could be the end of it. The end of Plutark's reign on Mars. Everything we have been fighting for. And I need all my fighters ready."
Vinnie stared the older mouse down. His fur was standing on end as he seethed. Before his bros could make their way to him, he began to walk his way across the garage and to his quarters. "You got what you wanted, got your mechanic, now that you don't need Harley any more you can just forget her. I didn't realize I had signed up for the army. Don't worry Captain, I'll be a good little soldier for you."
Vinnie had methodically chosen every word to hit at Stoker like a slap to the face, but Stoker did not react. Out of a final act of frustration, Vinnie kicked the nearest bike to him, one of the generic black frames driven by some other mouse. As Vinnie left the bike he kicked toppled over and fell onto the bike beside it, which in turn toppled and created a domino effect of falling motorcycles.
Stoker winced as each bike fell one on top of the other until at least seven bikes were knocked down. From a corner of the garage, Charley spoke up, "I can fix those." The three mice looked over to her. "But I am gonna need a few more trips to scrap mountain."