Last Chances part 2

"Is this gonna be a regular thing with you two every time I turn around?" Stoker roared to the couple a few feet away, twisting his muzzle up in disgust. "Cuz if it is- I have half a mind to just gouge my eyeballs out in protest!" He then started pointing furiously towards the machine in frustration, mindful of the sparks and surges of electricity crackling around the device, "And this thing ain't gonna wait for you two love-birds to figure things out, I need Charley-girl's pretty little backside over here pronto, posthaste, and heck, I'll even throw in a splash of that ol' A.S.A.P just for shits and giggles if it gets both your asses over here faster!"

The mechanic sighed at the mouse's colorful rant, immediately untangling herself from Throttle's grasp, and heading into a lazy-like sprint. Her leg still ached and throbbed with unbearable pain, but when it came to these types of things, she usually ignored it bravely, and quite valiantly. "Let's get this over with so I can go home and have a nice, long, twenty-four hour shower." She grumbled in a huff, and she hurriedly looked down at her devastated appearance, shrugging in distaste, "I guess we should make it a full weeks worth of constant showering."

The tan leader sighed inwardly at Charlene's mentions of home. He didn't have the heart to tell her what happened to her precious garage just yet, and he grimaced in guilt as he ran behind her, peevishly following the mechanic towards the contraption laying awkward on its side. When they stepped closer, he watched in alarm as Charlene froze in mid step, as the rosiness along her skin began to pale several different shades of sickly green in a matter of seconds.

"Charley?" Throttle nervously questioned, jogging to where she stood at a standstill, and he soon realized exactly what it was that held her undivided attention. "Limburger." he hissed in distress under his breath, and he steadied a broad arm to reach out for her, immediately blocking her view. "Come on," he tried murmuring sweetly into her ear, "a lady shouldn't be seein' things like this." and he twirled her around, away from the scene, finding that she was shivering slightly at his touch. His gut instincts soon ignited, telling him that something drastic must have happened between the two to cause her body to shake and quiver as much as it did. He decided then, that later, he would dig into it further when they had a free moment to be alone. But for now, his more investigative side would have to sit this one out and wait. They had a job to finish after all.

"'Bout time you kids got your heads out of the damn clouds" Stoker scolded, interrupting Throttle's thoughts. Modo and Vincent giggled like two little school girls by his side, while he leaned briskly over the de-generator at his boots, getting a pretty decent look at the metal casings surrounding it. He then grabbed a tool from a side pocket located at his hip, throwing a phillips-head screwdriver into the bolts of the machine, and started to twist. Once it was unscrewed completely, he gingerly removed the large, aluminum panel; lying it carefully to the ground, making the sizzling and static around it abruptly stop. Charley joined him at the roof's floor soon after, both sets of eyes looking down into the bowels of the devise in deep concentration, planning the next strategy to defuse the dooms day device entirely. First, by removing the stone, and the rest of it- bit by every last metallic bit, destroying it unconditionally- for good.

"This is a complete train wreck." Charley commented, her jaw dropping at the rancid turmoil flowing on the inside of the machine. "How in the world am I supposed to figure this disaster out?" an agitated sigh, "I can't move all of these wires, dials, and memory chips by myself, I mean, I only have two hands for crying out loud!"

Stoker scratched the back of his head, beaming total confusion as well; looking just as shocked as she was at the mess. "To the gods almighty, darlin.' I had no idea it was anything like this, I swear." he then bumped her shoulder with his own in a chuckle, "Guessin' you got your work cut out for ya' now- huh?"

Charlene frowned, knitting the creases on her forehead firmly at Stoker, and he tried to redeem himself from the death-stare she was suddenly giving him, by doing what he did best- the arts of distraction, "Oh hell, Sweetheart. I meant nothin' by it. I just figured this would give you a chance to shine all of that sexy, mechanical talents-of-sorts that'ya' say you always have." he smiled, complimenting her; shrugging indifference, "That's all."

"Right." The woman mumbled with a roll to her eyes in disbelief at the soldier, getting back to the horrid task she reluctantly volunteered for. So far, her life wasn't filled with those lavish rainbows and sunshine she so desperately had an eager taste for. All in all, she measured, life actually kind of sucked at the moment, more than it usually did.

Vincent sputtered, observing the two mechanics stationed on the ground, the noise leaking from his muzzle gained the lady's attention. "Hey, no problems Sweetheart. I've been told hundreds of times that I'm exceptionally good with my hands." a pert nod and a wink, "I got ya' covered," he teased with a seductive wiggle to his fingertips and a wave to his furry brow. He made sure that his sights were targeted to Charlene when he said it, making him grin even wider in mischief. She quickly rolled her eyes at his colorful remark like she always had in the past, while Stoker snickered thickly through his nose in an unflattering snort, and Throttle, he just simply shook his head, ignoring his brother's flirtatious gesture altogether.

When it came to Vincent, old habits apparently died hard.

"Is that what the old ladies in the retirement home say when you go on your daily visits?" Modo replied with a devious smirk to his fuzzy muzzle, and he slap-happy'd his knee at the joke, proud of himself at coming up with such a clever and demeaning jab. "Heard they were pretty big fans of yours." He finished, his expression being nothing less than the bright, pearly whites of his mousey teeth.

"You're funny." The white hero spat, crinkling up his snout, and he folded his arms over his chest in annoyance at the recent slap to his petty bragging about women.

Stoker grinned, pulling a couple of wires out from the de-generator carefully, minding the mechanic while she worked. "Now, now, fellas," he said in a grunt, hauling more wires from the metal shell at his knees. "Us older folks need that special kind of lovin' sometimes too." and he lifted his brows up and down suggestively, beaming wildly from cheek to furry cheek at Charley.

"Filthy old mouse is what you are." The mechanic said, smiling with an added side wink, tapping the soldier spitefully at the knee. Then she guided her gaze and palms back into the guts of the oversized machine, feeling around for a small, separate metal box the coal-minors stone had possibly resided in. She and Stoker didn't see the black mineral exclusively after the lid was removed, so she automatically assumed that it must have been protected somewhere in the de-generator, tucked safely away from prying eyes.

"Just remember, hot-stuff," The mechanic said in light giggle at Stoker, flitting her fingers around more wires, screws, and computer chip databases that were in her way, "to keep all of those dirty little details about you and the old people to your-"

A startling, ominous 'click' interrupted Charlene's next thought, causing her green orbs to frantically grow wide- doubling their original size in a panic, and she swallowed down hard from her mouth going dry, sensing that all too familiar feeling of helplessness and dread.

Stoker noticed her sudden shift in attitude, the humorous grin swiping clear from his face in a matter of minutes, and the look of concern immediately took its place, "Charley-honey, is everything all right?" he asked, trying not to sound too anxious about her behavior.

Charlene managed to swallow hard once again, finding that her voice had all but refused to cooperate with what she wanted to say. She began to perspire heavily in a sweat, the heat along her skin rising to dangerous levels, and her cheeks began to burn in a deeper state of crimson. Her jaw continued to spasm, while her mouth opened and shut like a fish gasping for breath, intent on trying to form a single coherent word- just something, anything that would eventually make sense.

Throttle went to his knees, thumbing his fingers around her chin, forcing her to look at him. Her head had twisted at the request, but her eyes refused to follow, they stayed firm in a gridlock at the de-generator.

"Charley?" He muttered hotly, uncertainty displaying all over his face. "Charley-girl!" he demanded when she didn't respond.

"I'm stuck." She finally murmured, her lips barely twitching to make an audible sound.

Throttle obviously missed it. "You're- wait- you're what?"

"God!" She whispered in dismay, whirling her head towards him in a rage, her expression quickly going angry, almost livid. "Didn't you hear me?! I said I'm trapped! Like I'm literally stuck inside the damn thing!" and to prove her point, she made a move to yank her hand out, but the harsh pull she administered, remained practically useless.

Throttle and Stoker took action at the same time, grasping for her arm in a haste. Once they reached her, a sliding door along the devise hissed open, revealing a modest sized computer screen, halting their advances full stop. It flickered with static for a few moments before Limburger's face illuminated upon it, his grin wild, cold and positively delighted. Deja-vu had once again, reared its ugly head around the heroes and Charley.

"Well, isn't this disconcerting?" The Late Plutarkian rhetorically asked with a knowing lift to his brow. "Let me guess- your mechanic friend's curiosity got the better of her, and she's now feeling rather tied down at the moment," a compressed chuckle, "am I even remotely surprised?"

The four mice twisted their muzzles into a cool snarl, while Charlene looked on, utterly helpless. She used her free limb to run a shaky hand through her matted hair, using the distraction to try and calm herself down some, but the energy was wasted. Without trying to hide it, tears began prickling at the backs of her eyes, while her lips quivered like she was left out in the cold, scared. Not really knowing what the larger than life fish was going to spew from his mouth about these latest plan of his- it could be almost anything.

With their hearts still pounding, Limburger continued, leaning forward into the narrow glass of the camera, "What a shame she just couldn't leave things well enough alone, but as with any female species in this horrible, wretched universe of ours, they refuse to listen to reason, so, it doesn't surprise me in the slightest that she would find herself in such an awful and dreadful predicament," His synthetic face fell callously into a frown, "Must be a tiresome thing, having to rescue her on a daily basis; I'd imagine."

Charlene's green pools fluttered to the left and then to right, growing more into a heated panic, and she went to extract her arm away from the guts of the machine in a tantrum, "I would advise against doing that, Miss Davidson." Lawrence smiled deviously, waving a finger in a 'tsk' like fashion, as if she were misbehaving. "Why, it would be detrimental to your health, my dear, and as the old saying goes-" His grin grew even wider, even more sinister than before, "-'hit that third strike and you're out'."

At that, the mechanic instantly froze. "That's better, my feisty little feline," The Alien Fish cooed with a looming wink to his nylon covered eye. "Now, I'm not one to play our inattentive games carelessly, or without a touch of merit, so I'll be giving you vile vermin the chance to allow Miss Davidson a means to escape." He furrowed his brow, resting his chin on coupled hands along the top of his desk. "Your time starts-," he glanced at the watch located on his frumpy wrist, "-now. You have less than three minutes to get her to safety, before-"

The monitor then went into a blackout, cutting Limburger's final words off, and it began to fizzle and pop before smoke decided to smolder around the edges of the screen in a huffing, tight 'poof', leaving the window looking cracked, dark, and dim. Emphasizing directly, on what was about to happen to their best friend.

Charlene gulped back the thick bile climbing up into her throat, while Throttle gritted his teeth. His comforting hand lied lifeless upon her arm until she felt him squeeze. The kind gesture he submitted was giving her very little comfort.

"What the heck does he mean by all that?!" "Vinnie questioned with an aggravated growl, throwing a dismissive wave at the com-link.

"It's a fail safe." Throttle murmured in a stupor, ignoring Vincent's need for a reply. "That dirty son of a rat actually-," he left his last thought hanging with a dry, humorless chuckle and he shook his head to clear it. "Doesn't matter. We need to figure a way to get Charley-girl out of this thing." He turned his blistering gaze to Modo, Vincent, and Stoker who appeared to be completely dumbfounded, irrevocably speechless, and he grumbled impatiently, forcing himself to stand from the floor due to their eerie silence.

"Suggestions anytime here, bros. We only got three minutes!"

"Two-forty nine." Stoker spoke up, revealing his watch to Throttle. "Less than that since you asked for suggestions."

"Enough with the wisecracks, Stoker." Throttle warned in a growl under his breath, taking a step forward to the Soldier in green. "You're either helpin' us fix this, or stayin' the hell out of it."

"Stop it, both of you."

Stoker and the boys whirled at their heels, facing Charley. Finding that her features had become stone cold, lifeless, almost depressing. "Just stop it." She repeated in a whisper again, as tears threatened to slowly glide down her burnt up cheeks, "You guys need to get out of here while you still have a chance." her lips trembled and quaked with emotion, "and there isn't much time to-."

"Don't." Throttle said with a hint of bitterness to his voise, clenching his fists tightly at his sides, and he swiftly fell to his knees, plopping ungracefully beside the startled mechanic on the roof's floor. He grabbed the sides of her face in a heated rush, rubbing his nervous thumbs along her sensitive skin. His tail wrapped several, strained spirals around her torso, drinking her all in. "If you think for one second, that I'm just gonna walk away from this and leave you here-" He choked slightly, shaking his head, "Forget it, Charley, it's not happenin'." He finalized, sucking in an even deeper breath, and he searched frantically in her watery green eyes, waiting for her to defy him. It felt as though his heart was tearing him apart like a knife, treading its jagged edge along the muscles with each spastic beat. It was the exact same feeling he received on the night at the cliff with Carbine.

Throttle swiped an estranged tear gently away from her cheek as he sensed that familiar awareness scorching on the inside of his broad chest in a storm," And I'm tellin' you now, that I'm not gonna stand for those silly little 'save yourself' type deals, babe, not from you." He scolded firmly, staring hard and pressing. Drilling the notion into her that he was serious, that he meant what he said, leaving no room for argument.

For a moment, Charlene could only gawk at him, starry-eyed at his boldness, but with a tight nod in understanding, she wrapped her unattended hand around the back of his neck; pinching up fur, and she pulled him roughly against her for a brief kiss, sealing yet another unspoken promise being shared between them that night.

"Keep tabs on the time, son." Stoker said, throwing his watch carelessly over to Vincent, before he glared in a blaze over at Modo, "We have exactly two minutes, fellas, so it's you, me, and the de-generator- let's go."

"On it, boss." Modo said with gusto, and they headed over to the machine, hoping that time would be on their side- just this once.

Stoker and Modo went straight to work, madly poking and prodding the insides of the machine, unsure of themselves on whether or not they'd be able to get her out in the allotted time they were given, while Throttle sat protectively by Charlene's side, purposely sitting at the front to shield her as their friends tore the de-generator carelessly apart. The less she saw, the better it was for everyone.

Stoker dove a maddening hand inside, feeling for Charlene's imprisoned limb, as sweat started forming on the hairs of his brow from the rush. "Ya' need to lift all of that wirey bull-shit away, Modo, I can't see a damn thing past my elbow." He ordered, trying to keep his voice steady and calm; for Charley's sake. Modo nodded, and with a red tint to his good eye, he mercilessly tore off the metal casing surrounding the de-generator, letting everything held within it, fall to the ground like lava, causing Charlene's arm to drop in a release, and the move instantly revealed the casing in plain sight. It was a simple, grey looking box, marginally bigger than the size of her hand, with two sets of lights on each corner, one glowing green, and the other, spewing absolutely nothing. It appeared to be screwed down to the base of the de-generator, and to Stoker's much needed delight, it seemed to be an easy removal if done appropriately.

Modo's mechanical eye glowed twice it's original crimson, gazing at the device. "That low-life scum knew Charley-mam was gonna be the one to defuse this." He stated, as he watched Stoker grab a screwdriver with shaky hands from the tool pouch on his side in a haste. "Aint no way our oversized hands would've fit into that thing."

Stoker stabbed the tool generously into the bolts with a 'plink', the sound echoing slightly on the incline, "Would you expect anything less from that fat-bastard?" He absently asked with an irritated sniff, before he made a call out to Vincent. He maneuvered the driver inside of his palms into the screws just a little bit faster, "Time?!"

Vinnie swallowed the lump in his throat, hesitating at the request.

"TIME?!" Stoker yelled once more, twiddling the tool spastically. "Vinnie, I swear to the gods above, if you don't start yappin'-"

"F-forty-five seconds!" and the white mouse gripped the watch in his hand with a tight squeeze, finding he was having a difficult time keeping it in his sweaty covered gloves.

"Stoker?!" Throttle questioned in fear, losing that small spout of confidence he had, and he gripped Charley even tighter as she screamed. His ears flattened to the sides of his face with worry.

"Workin' on it!" The old Soldier replied, messing with the last two screws, and he swiped again at his brow, releasing the salt water towards his feet.

Another swivel from the driver and a 'ker-plunk'- "Twenty five seconds, bros, I don't know if-"

A screeching twist- "Don't even say it!" Stoker hoarsely replied. He had this, he always did, and he wasn't going to let Charley down, to let Limburger win. Not now, not today, not ever. Time was moving too quickly for his liking, and before anyone knew it was coming, the shuffling of rapid footfalls, cries and an abundance amount of profanity littered the air once the green light suddenly shifted to opposite side of the box during the attack on the last screw, brightening it up to a scarlet shade of red before everything around them bled into white.

Deafness sang its lurid song on the inside of their ears without a care, while time had abruptly stopped.

...even in death, Lawrence Limburger still managed to win the upper hand.

Minutes Later...

Just over head of Willis Tower, a massive ship hovered in the skyline, igniting the roof with its flickering lights as it started to land. The attendants residing inside, were completely unaware of how much their help was actually needed.

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Author's Note: I split this chapter up so that I would have an even number of installments. ;D I figured ten chapters would look better on a story verses nine. It's just my personal preference. So, this chapter is several words shorter than the last, and the next final installment: Last Chances Part 3. Lots of ground to cover with my precious babies yet, but I assure you, that the tenth update will be the very last. Plus, I still have to go over the second half of what this chapter used to be in the beginning- extremely long. So, give me some time to buff through that mess as well. Lol! Hopefully it won't take me too much time to whittle it all out, and we can start getting the ball rolling for a probable sequel...

...maybe.

Possible Sequel information: It would get into more detail about Throttle and Charley's relationship as they grow. It would have less action, probably more lovey-dovey mushy stuffs (?eventual lemon?), and that possible, pesky drama we adore so very much.

I'm still undecided- that if I do make a sequel- Should I make the story flow together, or make it a novel of one-shots? *shrugs* You're thoughts on this are welcomed! The readers' input on these matters are just as important as the story itself. So, let me hear what you'd like to see if I continued on with another story. ;)

Let me know in the comments!

And as always, THANK YOU to those who have already read and reviewed so far! Hope to hear from everyone soon!

Oh, and please, please, please review this new chapter as well? ;)

Thanks you so much, lovely readers! We're almost there!

The Spoon :D