Bring bring, bring bring. “The phone’s ringing!” Vinnie yells. “I ain’t deaf Vincent, only rather occupied.” Throttle hollers in return. “I’ll get it, I’ll get it.” Modo gets up, throwing his polishing rag over the handlebars of his bike. He walks over to the phone. “Last Chance Garage, this is Modo Maverick, what may I help you with?” The big fella is polite as ever. The man on the other end of the line asks for Charlene Davidson. “I will hand her the phone, one moment please.” Modo walks over to Charley. “It is for you Charley ma’am.” He says. Charley whipes her hands on a rag and takes the phone from Modo.
Naturally the mice are curious, but Charley walks away from them. “She looked sort of .. troubled. I hope it is nothing serious.” Throttle says. “We should leave her alone for a while. Let’s see what Fishlips is up to. Chi-town is unusually quiet this week.” Modo adds. “Yeah I need some action!” Vincent says. “Then we check on the big fish.” Throttle nods. “But our bikes are in .. maintenance mode.” Vinnie hangs his ears. “We’ll take the bus.” Throttle says. Ge dons his nukeknucks glove and lowers his shades for better vision. “Bro’s it is time for a clamer sort of rock and ride.” Modo chuckles.
But just as the mice are about to go to the door, Charley returns into the garage. She has tears in her eyes. “Charley girl!” Vinnie rushes over to her. Charley wails and presses herself against the white furred martian. Modo and Throttle come over as well. The three friends enclose their human companion, holding her while she cries. “It’s alright Charley babe.” Throttle cooes sweetly. Charley sniffles and shakes her head. “No boys, not this time.. I was just called about my sister… She passed away, along with her husband and youngest daughter.. And somehow...” Charley lets out another loud wail. “Yes, somehow?” Throttle encourages her. “Somehow my other sister wants to give full custody of my one surviving niece to … To Lawrence Limburger!” The mice can see the anger in Charley’s green eyes. “Well, now we know why the Big Cheeze was so docile the past week.” Vinnie says. “He is in England, preying on my niece.” Charley hisses.
“But what would he want with an innocent little girl?” Modo asks. “Tala is not a little girl anymore. She’s University age now. Last time I spoke to her over skype.. That was half a year ago .. She said she did freelance translating. French, German and Latin. She ain’t stupid. But she has no idea who Limburger is. And she hates her other aunt.” Charley dries her tears. “We need to go to Colchester, ASAP.” The spice is back in her voice. “Colchester, is that in France?” Vinnie asks. “No, England. I’ll need to use my saving to book us tickets to the UK. And I’ll need to call Tala that we will be coming.” Charley wrings away from the martians and runs to her computer. “We had best get packing. To the scoreboard, bro’s.” Throttle says.
~ ~ ~
The following morning Charley and the mice have boarded the plane to the continent of Europe. The mice are not happy. Their bikes had to stay behind in Chicago. The mice don’t like leaving their bikes behind. It feels very unsafe. But they don’t want to let Charley go on her own. Not to mention they are itching to meet Tala.
“What happened to your sister anyway?” Throttle needs to make small talk to break the tension. “She and her husband got into a car crash. Their youngest was also in the vehicle.” Charley answers. “All the more reason to prefer bikes.” Says Modo. Throttle can’t help but chuckle a little. Vincent, however, remains silent, which is of course rather odd. “Vinnie what is the matter?” Modo asks his white furred friend. “I don’t know bro, I just feel like we won’t, ya know, blend in in Clutchester.” Vinnie replies, gazing out of his small round window. “Colchester.” Charley gently corrects.
Throttle thinks on the matter for a little bit. “Vincent has a point. The windy city has bikers enough. Colchester is very different.” He says. He exchanges a look with both Charley and Modo. Charley is thoughtful, Modo rather insecure, which the tan martian recognises by the narrowing of Modo’s sole slitten pupil. The big mouse’s tail swishes a little. Throttle nudges his tall brother in arms. “Don’t worry bro, I read that the UK is a cespool for the strange and unique. Maybe we just fit right in.” He says. “You read?” Charley frowns at the leading mouse. “I do have to know a few things about the stage before we ride into battle. Being caught unawares is very lacking. I wasn’t Stoker’s successor for shits and giggles.” Throttle seems a bit irked by Charley’s surprise.
~ ~ ~
They take a taxi cab from the airport to a very decent looking house in Coltchester. A strict looking woman is waiting on the front porch. Charley swallows audiably. Modo takes Vinnie’s suitcase, so that Vinnie can take their terranian friend by the hand to give her confidence. Charley looks at her three friends. “That is my older sister Syl...” She muttered. “Syl does not like me, or Tala, for that matter.” She look like she dreads talking to her sister.
The mice get why when Syl meets them on the steps of the porch. “What did you have to sell to be able to afford four plane tickets, Charlene.” Her voice is sharp and mean. Modo’s eye lights red. This sour old hag is not allowed to insult his friend. Throttle puts a hand, with activated nukeknucks, mind you, against his chest. The amplified power is needed to hold Modo back. “Not now, big fella.” The leader whispers.
“I am not here for you Sybil. I am here for Tala.” Charley says. She is very well capable of standing up for herself. “She is inside.” Syl’s nose scrunches rather unattractively. “Then we will be there too.” Charley marches past her older sister. The mice follow her without looking at Syl a second time. Charley opens the front door. “It has been a while since I’ve been here last. They redone the place, I see.” She mumbles. “It isn’t much different from how we used to live, Save from the fact we prefer to use stone instead of wood.” Throttle comments.
Charley trails into the kitchen. Throttle and Modo put down the suitcases and the mice follow her.
Modo is last to enter the kitchen. But he stops in the door frame, frozen and dumbfounded in his tracks. He suddenly begins to understand what Vinnie finds so interesting about Charley. The girl standing at the counter makes all of his thoughts fade out. He’s never felt like stopping in his tracks for another individual before. Of course stopping for someone in need or in order not to drive someone over is entirely different. Modo think to himself that this must be how Throttle felt when he first saw Carbine.
They had only just graduated the academy, Throttle with flying collars, Vinnie only barely. They had been as old as 17. And the war had with Plutark had only just been admitted to be true. It was before Stoker had grounded the Freedom Fighters. It was before Mars was sold. They were young and sick of practising their aim on sandraiders. They joined the army. At the same time as a certain Carbine Canonball. She was spicey and perky. Modo was polite and Vinnie showie, as usual. But Throttle, usually so cool and collected, looked like he had his foot in his mouth. He was awestruck and dumbfounded and so was Carbine.
The young woman is short and gently curved. Her hair is red as the fur of a fox. Her pale is littered with freckles, even on her lips and the lids of her eyes. She wears a skinny bacl, torn up jeans, a green tanktop and a white hoody. Her ears are pierces in multiple places and her bottom lip once. She wears a necklace with a wolfhead pendant. She looks up at Modo. His heart sinks into his boots. Her eyes are unbelievably blue.
“H-hello, ma’am.” Modo sputters. She approaches him with the elegance of a panther. There is an unfamiliar tightening in Modo’s trousers. His cheeks heat up and he thanks all his lucky stars that he has fur to cover it up. “Hello sir, my name is Tala Lockheart.” She extends her hand for him to shake. Instead Modo decides to use his good hand to bring hers up in order to kiss heck knuckles. ”My name is Maverick, Modo Maverick.” He tries to sound as sultry as he can.
Charley rolls her eyes. “He watches too much James Bomb.” She says. Tala giggles softly. “I think it is kinda cute.” She says softly. “Just wait until the helmet comes off. She’ll know I am muuuch cuter.” Vinnie says. Without an ounce of hesitation, Modo removes his helmet. Throttle and Vinnie follow suit. Tala is shocked, but recovers very quickly. “Miss Tala allow me to explain. We are the Biker Mice From Mars. Martian Cave Mice, to be precise. My name is Throttle Davidson.” The tan leader extends his hand. Tala takes it and they shake on it.
Vinnie butts Throttle aside. “Lovely to meet you sweetheart. I am the baddest motorcycle mama jama on all o’ Mars. The name is Vincent van Wham. But you can call me Uncle Vinnie.” He winks and gives Tala a crushing hug. Charley turns red as a beet. “Green next!” Tala giggles.
“You took our little reveal surprisingly well.” Throttle says. “This is Englands and we are an hour drive away from London, anything is possible here. Plus, I have my own … secret.” Tala replies. “But that’ll have to wait until the old dug up banshee went to her hotel.” She seems to softly growl. “She has a hotelroom?” Rage appears in Charley’s eyes. “She doesn’t want to be alone with me after dark. I dine and sleep in solitude.” Tala sighs, looking disappointed.
Modo’s eye lights red. “You are all alone at night?” He asks. Tala nods, but gives him a confused look. “Easy big fella. If Limburger wanted to get to her, the old woman wouldn’t have stopped him, even at day time..” Throttle tries to soothe his friend. “Limburger … The fat man in the suit?” Tala asks. The mice nod. “He smells like rotting dolphin tar.” She scrunches her nose adorably. “Yeah … The Big Cheeze did not invent showers.” Vinnie says.
“Is he..?” Tala is reluctant to finish that sentence. “He is our, as you could call it, Arch Nemesis. He usually wreaks havoc in Chicago. His race whiped out most of ours. He’s from Plutark. They are … fish like.” Throttle explains. He leans in to lightly tap Tala’s forehead with his antena’s. He shows her how the Plutarkians wrecked Marks. A single tear rolls down her cheek. Throttle catches it. “Such pure heart.” He says softly.
Sybil comes into the kitchen. The fact that the three mice don’t even startle her is very worrying. “Did you already find a hotel? Or are you unable to afford that?” She sneers at Charley. Tala snarls like a wild beast. “They will stay here. Feel free to piss of to your hotel.” She bares her teeth, showing her sharp and elongated canines. Sybil backs off, her eyes wide. Tala barks and Sybil stumbles away. “Now bugger off.” Tala says. Sybil leaves in a hurry.
“I wonder how she met Limburger.” Throttle says thoughtfully. “And how she convinced the court a twenty year old needs a legal guardian.” Charley adds. “Both are worrying issues, but can we save it for later, I need a nap.” Vinnie stiffles a jawn. “Let me show you the guest room.” Tala says. She leads her guests to the first floor. She gestures to the large guestroom. “One queen and a fold out couch. I sleep across the hall in my parent’s room.” She says. She holds herself so strong, even when grief turns her eyes watery.
Charley hugs her niece. Both women still refuse to break. Even when the three martian’s join the embrace. “It is okay to cry.” Throttle whispers.
The mice know their fair share of losing. Modo and Vinnie lost their fathers in the war. Throttle’s father is a prisoner of the Plutarkians. Modo’s brother in law, Rimfire’s dad, Rover Refton died after brutal torture at the hands of Dominic T Stilton. Vinnie’s older brother Welder is left with severe PTSD. And Throttle’s brother and sister are both lost. Nobody knows where Harley has gone and only Mother Mars know if that rat killed Mace.
Yes, the heroic trio also has scars on their soul, which influences the way they act, at times. It is true that centuries of war with the rats and the sandraiders have engraved a durability into the DNA of the Martian Cave Mice. But the war against Plutark has been taxing, even by Martian Standards.
Yes, Vinnie has always been rather hyperactive and a rush chaser. But to cope with the death of his comrades and relatives and the destruction of his brother’s mind, he’s become an outright adrenaline junky. He’ll get trembles when there is no rush to be had and has an attention span of a terranian gerbil.
Modo, gentle giant he is and always has been, does his best to uphold the values his grey furred old mommah has taught him and the duty his black furred late pops has charged him with. He fights with honor and treats those around him with valor. But in his heart there is a lot fear, insecurity and anger. His temper runs hot rather quickly. He might also be susceptible to bouts of depressive emotion.
Throttle, on who’s broad shoulders rests the responsibility of the martian liberation, also feels the burden of guilt. The guilt of leaving Mars behind to make sure Earth does not become part of the conflict. His heart is empty and insecure for his family as well as for his lady love. He might be prone to melancholy at times, but so far he is the most resilient.
But none of them have ever hidden their emotions. Even though they are the manliest of martian man. Because they have been raised with the idea that their emotion are a manifestation of the sacred. And to always let them show to those closest to your heart.
But Charley and Tala keep their tears in. Because it feels to them this is not the time yet to cry.
Charley leans into Vinnie’s chest and heaves a sigh. Tala looks up at Throttle. He gives her a gentle nod. Tala closes the embrace on her aunt. She is keeping it together still. Throttle gently gives her shoulder a squeeze. Tala heaves a sigh as well. “Thank you guys. But this is just the beginning.” Charley gentle lets go of the embrace. “We’ll get some rest.” She says. Throttle nods and gestures to the guestroom.
Tala leaves leaves, heading down the stairs. “Poor girl, about to be alone in this wild universe...” Throttle open the door to the guest room. “No way bro, she’s got us.” Modo flaxes his bionic fingers, showing his agitation and determination. “Do you think what I am thinking?” Vinnie sits on the side of the bed and takes off his boots. “That you are in dire need of new socks?” Throttle pulls the lever on the side of the couch, while peering at the numerous holes in Vinnie’s socks. Vinnie snorts. “Yeah, that too … but about Lil’ Red.” He replies. “Is it Little Red already?” Charley asks. Vinnie nods.
Throttle spreads a blanket over the sleeping couch and sits down to take off his boots. “Your family is ours, Charley girl. Plus, Limburger is keen to get her in his cheesy fins. Keeping her close is the best way to make sure she remains safe.” He says. Modo flicks his tail. “She will come to Chicago with us.” His voice is almost demanding. Charley looks up at him. “We will have to take Syl to court, though.” She tells him. “We will, if that is what it takes!” Modo replies.
After a few hours of sleep, it is the grey mouse that awakens from his nap first. He smells roasting meat and his mouth starts to water. He slowly gets up from the couch. Throttle stirs, but doesn’t wake up. Vinnie and Charley, on the bed, notice nothing. On socked feet, in his pj bottoms, Modo leaves the room. He silently closes the door behind himself. He toes down the hall and stairs.
He find the ground floor cloaked in silence, so deliciously devoid of Vinnie’s snoring. He smiles despite the direness of the reasons he is here. He is well aware that Tala must be hurt, traumatized and probably scared, but he is happy to have met her and to be in her presence.
A few minutes alone with her is just what he is looking for. He finds her in the kitchen, her back turned to him. Modo tiptoes over. “How was your nap, Mr. Maverick?” Tala asks, her voice innocent and sweet. She does not turn to him. Modo gapes at her, his jaw hanging slack. “Now now, no need to be so surprised.” Tala giggles. Modo does his best to compose himself. “H-how did you know?” He stutters. “Chemosignals.” Tala turns to him. “Everyone has their own scent and every emotion it’s own signals.” She has to crane her neck to be able to look at him. Modo feels flustered again. Her blue eyes just seem to suck him in, so much. His self consciousness is starting to rear it’s ugly head. Thoughts like I should have showered and I should leave her alone shoot through his head. He flicks his tail nervously.
Tala puts her hand on his arms. His hair stands on end, making him look rather fluffy. Tala giggles again. “You smell nice, Modo...” She cooes, ever so sweetly. Modo has to look away from her, because he feels like he would do foolish things if he’d keep looking at her.
“Would you like something to drink?” Tala asks him softly. Modo, who feels positively parched, especially with all the over thinking he has been doing in the few minutes he has only been in her presence. “What would you like.” She draws open the fridge. “Got any rootbeer?” Modo sits down at the kitchen table. “No, I am sorry...” Tala shakes her head. “I have actual beer, though, and wine. I also have cider, cola, ginger ale and cream soda.” She says. Modo tries to hide his disappointment, but his ears start to hang. “I’ll have cream soda… Never had that before.” He mumbles. Tala nods and pours him a glass. “Enjoy luv.” She cooes. Modo feels his heart skip a beat.
Throttle is downstairs after a little while too. He’s taken the time to put his trousers back on, but didn’t feel like wearing his vest. He’s bunning up his hair as he walks into the kitchen. “There you are big fella.” He puts his hands on Modo’s shoulders. Modo looks up at him. “Missed me?” He asks teasingly. “Of course, I will always miss the brethren I ride with, when they are not in sight.” Throttle takes the chair beside his grey furred friend. “So, what is cooking, good looking?” He says, good natured. “Stew.” Tala answers, pouring Throttle a glass of cream soda too. “I can only hope she is as good a cook as your ma, Modo.” Throttle grins and takes the cream soda from Tala. “Thank you Tala girl, so sweet.” He says gently. Tala smiles softly. “Yeah, my grey furred ol’ mommah’s cooking, now there is somthin’ I miss.” Modo sighs softly.
Vinnie and Charley some down as well. “What does my beady little nose smell!” Vinnie singsongs. “Tala’s specialty.” Charley replies. “Specialty huh, I am eager for a taste.” Vinnie jogs over to the stove, lifting the lid off of the pan. Hot steam hits him right in the face, causing his face mask to haze over. “Ouch.” He slams the lid back onto the pan. “Be careful you.” Charley gives him a little yank on his tail. “Hey, careful with the merchandise, sweetheart.” Vinnie whines.
“Come on you two, sit down, let me do the work.” Tala says. “You are my guests after all.” She nudges Charley towards a chair. Her aunt sighs and plops down. Vinnie sits in the chair beside her. “Wine?” Tala asks Charley. Charley nods. Tala pours her a glass of sweet red and Vinnie a glass of cream soda. “Shouldn’t you get yourself something to drink too?” Modo asks. “I have tea.” Tala sits down at the table, a warm mug with fragrant tea. Throttle heaves his glass. “To Mars, bro’s.” He hollers. “To Mars!” Modo and Vinnie echoes. They clang their glasses together and upend the contents into their mouth. Vinnie belches loudly. Modo belches louder. Immediately after he realizes that wasn’t the most gentlemanly thing to do in front of Tala. “Pardon me ma’am.” He says, hanging his ears a little. Tala pats his good hand. “Better in than out.” She cooes. “Still not very polite.” Throttle teases. “Like you never do it bro. Even around Carbine!” Vinnie objects. “Yeah, but I’ve known Carbine for about 9 years now, Vincent.” Throttle points out. “So?” Vinnie seems to miss the point. “We have only just met Tala, we need to give her the chance to think we are gentlemen.” Throttle says. Tala has to smile gently at that.
Dinner is served in painted bowls. Charley admires the egyptian looking motive. “Brand new, ma bought them a week ago.” Tala says with a sigh. She struggles lifting the large pan from the stove. Modo get’s up. “Let me help you.” He grabs the pan as if it weighs little more than a feather and sets it down on the table. “Thank you, Modo.” Tala says sweetly. She grabs a ladle and gives everyone a bowl full of rich smelling stew. “Eat up, sweetlings.” Tala says sweetly. “Oh you bet.” Throttle picks up his spoon and scoops himself up a big mouthful. He takes his time to taste. Modo and Vinnie peer at him intently. “Just like yer ma’s cookin bro.” Is Throttle’s verdict. Only then Modo and Vinnie dig in as well. “Oh mommah, you’re right Throttle, this is like my grey furred old ma’s cookin.” Modo praises. Tala flusters a little and smiles.
For a while all three mice are silent, just enjoying the stew. Charley and Tala neither feel the need to say anything. That is, until Tala clears her throat. “It is time I reveal my true self now.” She says. She has the attention at once. Throttle puts his bowl down and Vinnie’s fork clatters onto the table. Modo folds his good hand over his bionic one and gives her his undivided attention. “Tell us what ever you feel we should know.” He says. Tala nods and heaves a deep sight.
“You had your own little reveal and now I shall have mine. I hope I am not too monstrous.” She says. “I am sure you won’t be.” Throttle gives her a crooked smile. Tala gives the three mice and her aunt a hesitant look, but then seems to take heart. Her eyes turn from blue to red, her hands turn to long nailed claws and her teeth grow longer and sharp. With a jolt she gets up, her chair tumbling backwards. The mice startle when they hear a loud snap, of if someone breaks a bone in two. Tala is hunched over. Her ears are growing pointed and there is foxy red fur on his arms, and white on her chest. Vinnie and Charley gape at her. Throttle has his fists clenched with tension and Modo rises. “T-Tala...” He reaches out, but she backs off. The snapping sound returns and Tala’s back straightens out. Her fur fades away and her facial features return to normal. She turns her blue eyed gaze to Modo. His heart skips a few beats in relief. “Are you alright?” He asks. “Yes, don’t worry about me.” She puts a hand on his arm to reassure him. But it only makes his heart leap faster. Tala notices it and back off, picking up her chair and sitting back down. Modo sits down as well. “And how do we call this?” Throttle asks calmly. “Loup Garoux, Homos Lupus, Werewolf. What ever you want. Here in the UK we are mostly named Lyco’s, Lycan’s or Lycontropes. Many consider Lyco a slurr, but I don’t mind.” Tala replies. “I thought werewolves only excited on tv.” Vinnie says. “Just like Aliens, perhaps?” Tala asks teasingly. “Y-yeah… point for you.” Vinnie mumbles.
Tala clears away the dishes. Modo picks up the pan and puts it back on the stove. “Need any help?” He asks. “No, not at all, sit down, I’ll make you all coffee.” Tala shakes her head, her red locks dancing on her shoulders. “Alright, Vinnie drinks decaf.” Modo says. He wanders from the kitchen to the living. He flops down in the large armchair by the fireplace, looking as if he is lord of the house.
“So, what is the plan for now?” Vinnie asks, looking at Throttle. “Tomorrow we scout out Limburger and try to talk to Tala’s aunt. If that does not work we have to set up a lawsuit ASAP. I will have to study on the laws of this country a little bit.” Throttle replies. “We have to get Tala away from Limburgers sleezy fins as soon as we can and if need be, we get restraining orders for him and her other aunt.” Modo adds. “Hmm don’t rush into it too hard bro, we just need to make sure Tala can be her own person, with with Limburger as her legal guardian.” Throttle says. Charley nods. “Throttle is right. I don’t have money to do all sort of weird stunts in court, we just need to make sure Tala is safe.” She tells the mice. “And then Tala sells the house and comes to Chi-town.” Modo says. He, in his distracted curiousity pulls a lever on the side of the couch. A foot rest flops out of the chair and the backrest tilts down. “Ah, a mouse could get used to this.” Modo chuckles and gets comfortable.
Tala comes in the living with two mugs of tea and three cups of coffee. She puts down the tray and hands her aunt a cup of tea. “PG tip for me aunt.” She cooes. “Ah thank you Tala.” Charley smiles. “Decaf for me future uncle.” Tala hands Vinnie a mug of coffee. “Hey, who said I wanted decaf?” Vinnie whines. “Bro, we don’t want to put up with you hyperactive ass all week.” Throttle says. Vinnie groans and drops six sugarcubes in his coffee, stirring profusely. Tala hands Throttle a mug and walks to Modo to hand him the last one. “I see you have found my father’s chair.” She cooes. Modo jumps up as if he’s been sitting on a hedgehog. “I’m s-sorry Ta-Tala ma’am. I meant no disrespect.” He says. Tala clutches the mug of coffee and is very glad he hadn’t taken it from her yet. “It’s fine luv, sit down.” She says softly. Modo slowly takes his spot in the chair again. Tala sits on the armrest and hands him his coffee. “My father was a large man as well. I have my Lycantropia from him. He was very strong and a good man. I’ve always aspired to be like him. You fill his chair out well.” There is something sentimental in Tala’s eyes that makes Modo weak.
“We know the feeling, we all aspire to be like our old men in some way.” Throttle says. “Our fathers were all great warrior in their own respect, with heart for the cause and they all perished… Safe for mine. Mine is a prisoner of war.” He tells. “I am so sorry for all three of you. I wish there is something I can do for you.” Tala says softly. “For our fathers it is too late, Tala girl, we are here because you need us. We are here to make sure Limburger doesn’t get to you. We are grateful to stay under your roof and eat at your table. And we can only hope this doesn’t take too long.” Throttle replies, a kind smile on his face.
Tala sits beside her aunt on the couch and focusses on her cup of tea. She is silent for the most part. She is sad, the mice understand. But they also know not to pry.
“I’m heading to bed. Good night.” Tala says. She hugs Charley and gets up. “Sleep well sweety.” Charley says. “Yeah sweet dreams, sweetheart.” Vinnie pulls Tala into another bone crushing hug. Tala wriggles free. Throttle gets up for a fatherly kiss on the girl’s forehead. Tala giggles and pats him on the chest. “Tell us if you need anything.” Throttle says. “I will.” Tala says. She bends down to give Modo a kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight.” Modo mumbles, feeling how his entire face heats up. “Thank you.” Tala smiles weakly and heads upstairs.
The mice sit around for a little while longer, but only for half an hour or so. Charley nods off against Vinnie. He picks her up and heads to the guestroom. “We’d best go to bed too, big fella. tomorrow will be a taxing day, if things will go the way I suspect them to.” Throttle rises to his feet. “Yeah, I suppose you are right.” Modo gets up as well. Together they head up the stairs.
By the door of the master bedroom, Throttle halt. “Do you hear that, only now that she is alone she’ll show her emotions...” He mumbles. Modo peers at the door to the master bedroom. “Go to her big fella. I know what you feel. I have felt it too, with Carbine., I still feel it for her. But I suppose terranians need more time to catch the vibe.” Throttle places a hand on Modo’s shoulder. “Let her know she can rely on on you big fella.” He says. Modo nods and puts his hand on the master bedroom doorknob. Throttle enters the guestroom.
“Tala?” Modo knocks the door. There is no answer. He twists the doorknob and opens the door. He finds Tala on her bed, still dressed. He goes over, sitting on the edge of the mattress. Slowly he reaches out his good hand to gently stroke her hair. Tala turns to him, looking at him. Her face is wet with tears and she sobs softly. Modo gently strokes her cheek. “It’s okay to cry.” He rumbles softly. Tala whines like a kicked puppy. She crawls into his lap. Modo puts his arm around her. She curls into him and sobs heartbreakingly. “See, there it is, let it out.” He says softly.
“T-thank you Modo.” Tala mumbles. “It is quite alright baby.” Modo replies. Tala giggles softly. “I do feel like a baby in your arms.” She whispers. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” Modo runs his bionic fingers through her hair. Tala shivers at how cold the digits are and gooseflesh rises on her arms. Modo immediately removes his hand. “Don’t stop.” Tala whines. “S-sorry.” Modo resumes the motion.
Slowly Tala nods off. Modo gently tucks her in and toes out of the master bedroom. He goes into the guestroom. Vinnie is already sleeping, his arms around Charley, who peers over his shoulder to look at Modo. Throttle is seated in the windowcill, looking at the night sky as if he peers up at Mars. “How is she?” He asked softly. “Asleep, but very sad.” Modo sits on the edge of the sleeping couch. “We better get some shut eye too bro.” Throttle comes over to the sleeping couch as well.