Okay, I know that I just started another story last night. But my mind works in odd ways so just bear with me and I'll get back around to that one.

Right now I sort of want to try my hand at this story.

Just a little bit of a warning this story will be rated M for a reason that could range from language, to adult situations to gory detail on torture methods.

Like I mentioned before, my mind works in odd ways. If your expecting nothing but non stop fluff and cuteness then you might want to avoid this story, because life is rarely fluffy and cute. And I get pretty damn dark sometimes.

Summary- They had left earth and their friend behind with the hopes that the war was over. However it wasn't over. Four years have passed and the mice have been captured by the Plutarkians and were tortured for years and now have an execution order hanging over their head. But an old friend has been worried about the guys and has asked some friends to go to Mars and check up on them.


He crumbled to the floor the second he was back in his cell, his legs had simply been incapable of holding him upright any longer. His lungs struggled to pull air into his body as he sat there on the floor of his cell, bleeding, his sides aching from where the interrogator had taken a wicked looking set of alien brass knuckles to his ribs before he had started cutting him.

Every day for the past three years he and his bros were dragged from their cells, beaten, cut up, beaten some more then dumped back in their cells to rest so that they could do it all over again in the morning.

The Plutarkians wanted them alive to give them information. But so far he and his bros hadn't cracked. It would take far more than what the fish creatures could dish out, to break them. Not that the Plutarkians didn't seem to have fun trying.

The fin faced bastards were real sadists.

He heard the faint sound of movement to his left and glanced in that direction to see the shadowy figure of Modo as the gray furred giant pressed his face against the bars, his one eye looking concerned. "You okay bro?" Modo asked in his rough, broken voice.

He gave the elder male a pained looking smile and crawled over to the bars, despite the fact that moving right now hurt so damn much and settled his back against the bars. "I'm alive." Was really all that he could say since they had long stopped saying that they were fine.

Saying that they were fine after the shit that they had been through in the past three years would be a lie. A huge, hurtful lie. Because they knew that regardless of whether or not they got out of the cells or off of the base; they would never be alright again. "Hows Vinny?" He asked after a second or so, as soon as he could think enough to ask.

Vinny had been forced to drink an acid like substance a few days ago and had been running a high fever and having trouble breathing but so far the Plutarkian doctor that had taken a look at their bro had told them that the acid wouldn't kill the white mouse as long as he rested properly. Which was probably the only reason why the interrogator had been paying extra attention to Modo and himself in the past few days.

Again, the dumbass bastards needed them alive.

"I think he's okay. I noticed earlier that his breathing is a little bit easier today, and he seems to be resting better."

"Is he in pain?"

"I don't think so. At least not like he was the other day." Modo said as he settled himself against the bars so that he was sitting back to back with Throttle. The other sighed tiredly and leaned his head back against the cold iron and closed his eyes.

"That's good to hear..." He said weakly as he felt himself starting to drift off while Modo tried to occupy them both with stories of what he was going to do once they were free again.