Home

This is a songfic centred around Throttle from Biker Mice From Mars. It occurred to me during the Christmas break, but I have been unable to transcribe the thing since. I figured I might as well get it going before it completely blew out of me head.

The Throttle in this songfic is the Throttle from the 1993 BMFM series, not the 2006 series. All other characters are also the 1993 designs rather than their 2006 counterparts. In short, this entire fic takes place during the original series, and in reality it takes place during 1998.

DISCLAIMER – I do not own Throttle, Charley, Vinnie, Modo, Carbine, Stoker, or any other characters or concepts in the franchise of Biker Mice From Mars. "Home" is a copyrighted song of Daughtry. The lyrics in "Home" are a mixture of the original Daughtry lyrics and the version done by Alvin and the Chipmunks on their hit album Undeniable.

I'm staring out into the night,

Trying to hide the pain.

I'm going to the place where love,

And feeling good don't ever cost a thing,

And the pain you feel's a different kind of pain.

Throttle leaned against the wall of his quarters in the Stalker II starship and stared out into space. In hours he would be stepping out to meet Carbine, general of the Martian Freedom Fighters. Internally, he battled; it had been so long since he and Carbine had last seen one another face to face. It had not been a meeting which reinforced his high opinion of her; she had promptly arrested his bros, Modo and Vinnie, as well as himself on charges of high treason. It only took until the next day for them to convince her that they weren't working for the Plutarkians, but it was still quite the blow.

And I'm goin' home: to the place where I belong.

Where your love has always been enough for me.

I'm not running from; no, I think you've got me all wrong.

I don't regret this life I chose for me.

He wanted to see her, he couldn't deny that. But still, he thought, It's not the same…

Carbine and Throttle had kept contact over the years, and he'd even seen Stoker a few times. When he reported that they had finally run Limburger's coffers dry, she had been ecstatic; they could come back to Mars at last! They could come home!

Throttle, too, had been overwhelmed with elation. When they overheard High Chairman Camembert of the Plutarkian invasion demote Limburger and order him back to Plutark, they spent the night on the town. The mice and Charley-girl hit every root beer bar in Chi-town. Vinnie drank so much that he still felt the sugar crash the next day, but he didn't care: Limburger was gone!

It gave them time to prepare for their departure to Mars. Despite the fact that the Martian resistance was still fighting on Mars, Carbine immediately sent an envoy to retrieve the mice. Throttle protested, arguing that they couldn't spare the troops and that the Martian resistance was more important than three mice billions of miles away. Carbine wouldn't hear of it, and sent the team while they were still on the line.

But these places and these faces are getting old,

So I'm going home.

Vinnie had spent that week away from his bros, and in increasing amounts with Charley. He even helped her out in the shop over the week. Throttle, having little enough packing as it was, did likewise and gave Charley a hand with her work. After all, they didn't have to go on patrol any more, and they really had nothing better to do. Modo spent the week helping Andy with the repairs on his shop; Limburger had made a literal impression on the restaurant, caving in the north walls and essentially wrecking half the kitchen.

Throttle had been sitting on top of the Scoreboard fiddling with his shades when he saw the streak in the sky. A smile played across his lips as the distinctive features of a Stalker-class Martian spacecraft seared across the sky. The smile vanished when he realized the ship was heading on a direct course for Quigley field. Not again, Throttle moaned inwardly.

But his worry was for naught. Fifteen minutes later, the Stalker slowed its descent, grinding to a hover position above the field. Throttle was amazed, to say the least, since that meant someone halfway skilled was piloting the ship.

More than twenty mice exited the ship promptly and formed saluting fences leading to the hatch in a smart military fashion. From within the Stalker II came Stoker and Rimfire, marching like the army bozos that Throttle knew they weren't.

When Throttle, Vinnie, and Modo went out to greet their envoy (dismayed as they were by it presence and even its size), they mirrored the military positions and stances of their envoy, saluting Stoker as the superior officer. Much to Vinnie and Modo's surprise, Throttle was the first to break ranks and give Stoker a bear hug. Both of them wrestled to and fro until Rimfire, Modo, and Vinnie pounced on them. From outside the mass of roiling fur, one could hear comments akin to "What freedom fighters" and "Why didn't we ever do that?"

After rubbing some bruised flesh, they made a report and caught up. It didn't take long, though, before Stoker cut the gab and grabbed their luggage, calling back to them to say their goodbyes.

Five hours later, the ship cleared the Earth's magnetosphere, pulling the bros along with it. The goodbyes had been hurried, and they all left Vinnie alone with Charley. It was a good two hours before they saw him again, and they were surprised to find him red-faced when he boarded the ship. When Throttle asked him what happened, he just shrugged and said he was going to miss her a lot.

The miles are getting longer it seems,

The closer I get to you.

I've not always been the best man or friend for you,

But your love remains true, and I don't know why.

You always seem to give me another try.

Throttle pushed himself from against the wall when he heard his bros come in. They both stood there, outlined in the doorway, looking genuinely worried about him.

"You alright bro?" Vinnie asked.

"You've been a bit quiet," Modo observed, tilting his head slightly to the right.

Throttle sighed and shook his head. "Nah, not really. It's just…hard to leave after so long living there, fighting off the stinkfish nearly every day. Lots of memories there that I can't get on Mars."

A smile tugged at Modo's mouth, but Vinnie was completely nonplussed. "Like what, blasting Limburger? We did that to Stilton all the time on Mars. And come on, you've got Carbine. Bitch she may be, but you still love her."

That twinged a nerve in Throttle, and he visibly flinched. "Thing is, Vinnie…I don't know that I do."

So I'm goin' home: to the place where I belong.

Where your love has always been enough for me.

I'm not running from; no, I think you've got me all wrong.

I don't regret this life I chose for me.

Vinnie was incredulous. "Whaddaya mean, 'you don't know that you do'? You couldn't stop talking about how you couldn't wait to see her before!"

"It's not that simple, Vincent!" Throttle growled. He dropped down on his bed and put his face in his hands. "I know I said I did, and I guess I do…but I don't." He sighed and stared at the floor. "Even before we ended up on Earth, Carbine and I had a testy relationship. I don't care about being 'the man', but I don't like people controlling me. You know how Carbine is: she's a control freak!"

Modo was the only one who appeared calm. Vinnie was absolutely astonished; he'd only heard Throttle talk so dispassionately once, and that was because he utterly loathed the rat. "Wait, are you saying you hate Carbine?"

"No, I don't hate her…I just don't want her, and I don't think she wants me. She wants somebody to control, and I'm not that person. When we get to Mars, I'd have to break it off with her right away. I just don't want to do that." He looked straight into Vinnie's eyes. "I don't love her Vincent, I just don't."

"So why don't you go tell the woman you love that you love her?" Modo said simply.

Throttle stared at Modo, and the knowledge plastered on the grey mouse's face was enough to make his insides squirm. "But I don't love anybody," he said forcefully.

But these places and these faces are getting old…

"Oh, I don't believe that. I know you love her, you know you love her."

"But what about…"

Suddenly Vinnie caught on, and a deep flush suffused his face. He turned to look at Modo. "So wait, you mean Throttle –"

Modo cut him off. "It's been pretty obvious for a while, bro, you just haven't been paying attention." On reflection, he corrected himself: "Well, I suppose you have, just on the wrong person."

Vinnie looked over to Throttle, who was staring down at his boots. Only one phrase escaped the white mouse's lips: "How long?"

It took a few moments before Throttle answered, and he swallowed several times before he could vocalise his thoughts. "Since I first touched her mind, Vincent. I didn't know it at first, and I was confused. I thought I loved Carbine, and the fact that I promised to come back after we left a second time made it hurt all the more. When I saw Carbine last time I lost track and thought that she really was the one." A sigh escaped his lips again, and the tendons stood out on his hands as he gripped them together. "I wished so hard that we could be together and live life with each other."

Be careful what you wish for, 'cause you just might get it all.

Yeah you just might get it all;

And thensome you don't want.

Be careful what you wish for, 'cause you just might get it all,

Yeah you just might get it all;

And thensome you don't want!

Oooohhhh ohhhh,

Owooohhh, ooooh!

Throttle put his face in his hands as he continued. "But when we got back to Earth…it all clicked. It took a while, but I finally realised that I didn't want to be with Carbine, and that she wasn't the one for me. Carbine's a great woman, but she's nothing compared to her…"

"Well, it's not like we're together."

Throttle's head shot up so quickly that his neck cracked audibly. "Say what, Vincent?"

"Yeah…" Vinnie walked over and sat beside his bro. "Before we left, we had a talk…I told her I loved her, and I wanted so badly to be with her, but I didn't think that's what was supposed to happen. It was hard to admit, but I decided it wasn't love I was feeling, that it was lust. I wanted her, I wanted her so badly Throttle…but I didn't want her that way."

"You know," Modo said, "We're not so far that you can't catch an escape pod back. We can tell Carbine about it and all, but once you get back you won't be able to leave." A dry chuckle escaped Modo's lips. "Haha, you'll probably get quite a call from her, but it's better than living a lie."

Throttle stood up slowly. "No, don't tell her that. Just tell her to call me and I'll explain. It's better that way; it's not so dishonest."

He took a step and paused, then crouched and turned to Vinnie. He placed two fingers under the white mouse's chin and lifted up his face so he could look him in the eyes. "And you're sure about this, Vincent? One-hundred percent? If you're not, I'm not going through with it. You're my bro."

"I'm sure." The words were quick, but still truthful. "Bro, I'm sure. And you know what? She really likes you. It hurt her so badly to see you go, but she thought you had Carbine on Mars. You know her; she won't tear you away from something like that just so that she'd feel better."

Then Throttle did something unexpected. He grabbed Vinnie and pulled him into a hug. Not a 'guy' hug where they wrestled back and forth but a full and honest hug of friendship. After a few seconds, they parted, but upon doing so Throttle touched the tips of his antennae to Vinnie's. A single thought crossed into Vinnie's mind, one so powerful and sincere that only its simplicity could truly relate it:

Thank you.

Well I'm goin' home, to the place where I belong.

Where your love has always been enough for me.

I'm not running from; no, I think you've got me all wrong.

I don't regret this life I chose for me.

But these places and these faces are getting old,

So I'm going home!

Throttle grabbed his bag, filled it with provisions, and booked it to the cargo bay. He bumped into Stoker on the way, and when the older mouse asked where he was going, Throttle only yelled back, "I'm going home!"

I'm going home.

Charley Davidson was finishing up a particularly nasty engine on the evening of March 29th, 1998. Anything and everything that could be wrong with it was. It was even worse, since it was on the border between needing the fixing and the repairs being pointless. If she hadn't been so stubborn and thought she needed the distraction, she would've just had her customer buy a new engine.

But Charley needed the distraction lately. It had been a week since the bros left, and it hurt her so much. She loved every one of them, and she knew her life would never be the same, never be so insane ever again. Life sucks, Charley thought as she got his flat on by an oil squirt.

Suddenly, Charley heard the sound of a bike come nearer. She thought it was just a lone biker out for a ride, but when it reached the shop it stopped and turned off. "Hey, is there a good bike jockey here?" a muffled voice called.

Charley bit back a curse and stomped over to the garage door. They were closed for the night, it even said so on the sign she put up. "Hey, can't you read? The shop is clo…" Her voice trailed off as she saw the biker take off his helmet. And those abs…they were unmistakeable.

"What's wrong, Charley-girl? You look like you've seen a ghost from the past." Throttle grinned as he put his helmet on his bike handles, only to be set upon by a very excited Charley.

"Throttle?! What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be on the way to Mars? My god, Carbine must be worried sick! I'll go see if I can fire the communicator up and get you home."

Throttle placed a hand on her shoulder as she turned to go inside. "Hey, hey, take it easy Charley-girl. I came back, I didn't stay behind."

"Came back? But why would you…" Her voice was muffled by Throttle pressing his lips to hers, giving her a slow and sensuous kiss.

When they broke apart, Throttle placed his antennae against Charley's forehead and said, "For that…"

Charley was in a daze. All her negative feelings, her worries, her hatreds, everything was drowned out in that one moment…

"You're home…" was all she could manage.

"I'm home."