Work Text:
Christmas in the basement lab wasn’t so bad, even as the lab rats became teenagers. Davenport always decorated, bringing down a real tree and filling the lab with icy blues. The teens loved the scent, they wished it could smell so earthy every day. Davenport told them it always smelt earthy outside.
Santa didn’t visit this house, Davenport found the concept of him stupid and illogical. He told the kids point blank that he was the one delivering their presents on Christmas, never mentioning a bumbling Santa Claus. Why should that bearded dork take all the credit for all those presents? Why should he take all the credit for knowing Davenport’s kids so well? Davenport sort of kind of knew his kids well sometimes, and this was the best time to show it.
Shopping for his bionic children was easy. Adam got a pair of boxing gloves, Bree got a box set of her favorite sitcom, and Chase got some tactile logic puzzles. Boom, instant dad of the year. They were so easily amused, it was incredible.
While Bree was reading what special features were included in her box set, Chase was stood next to her, leaning over the table and mindlessly twisting his puzzle cube. Christmas was nice, but sometimes it was all too much. The bright lights, the overwhelming smell of pine needles, the off key sounds of Davenport’s incessant caroling… all the perfect environment to trigger his super senses and make his bionics glitch.
“These gloves are so awesome!”
Adam was trying out his new boxing gloves on the punching bag, making a consistent and non-stop punching sound. Chase winced without fail at every single hit.
But Chase coped. He wasn’t going to ruin Christmas. His family was having so much fun, and he hasn’t made a scene about his sensory issues during this holiday since he was a toddler, so why start that again now? He put all of his energy into self soothing, staring at his cube as he solved it and unsolved it over and over again. Luckily they weren’t trying to talk to him and ruin his focus.
“I wonder how these gloves’ll work on a person!”
Chase’s head immediately shot up, just to see Adam march on over to him and punch him in the gut. He doubled backwards and got flung into the Christmas tree, ornaments falling and shattering beside him. He looked up, eyes blurring out.
“Whoops.” Adam smiled. “I’ll help you up.”
But he didn’t help him up. Instead, he found himself slowly backing away as the puzzle cube was completely smashed in Chase’s fist.
Davenport shot an angry look to Adam, then redirected his attention to the boy leaned against the Christmas tree. “You okay Chase?”
“He’s probably fine,” Bree answers for her brother, not looking up from her box set. “He’s been hit harder in training.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Davenport walked closer, surveying the damage around the tree. This was going to be a pain to clean up. “We all know how much his bionics have been glitching recently. I was just wondering if something like this would trigger his…”
‘Chase’ stood up with his eyes locked on Adam, cracking his knuckles. Davenport groaned.
“…commando app.”
Before he could even annunciate the ‘p’ of ‘app,’ Bree ran the both of them hidden behind the control panel, away from the sightline of Chase’s commando app.
“Oh, you wanna fight?” Adam grinned and stanced up. “Come at me, Chasey. I have two boxing gloves and you have none, so. Yeah.”
Despite Bree and Davenport urging Adam to step down, he didn’t relent, getting swiftly punched in the gut with a strength Adam didn’t think Chase had in him. He held his side and stumbled up with a look of confusion on his face.
“Chase?”
“It’s Spike,” once Chase now Spike spat.
“Okay, Spike,” Davenport peeks his head out from the control panel, only up to his eyes. “We’re not here to hurt you, you can calm down now.”
That seemed to only anger Spike more, as he pulled down Bree and Davenport’s control panel cover, making a very expensive sounding crash. He ripped the wreath off of the front of it and shoved it onto Davenport’s head.
“I could rip out your large intestine and turn it into a Christmas wreath,” Spike starts, savoring the idea, “but I won’t. I’m after him.”
Everyone’s eyes snapped to Adam, who almost looked clueless. “What did I do?” He starts to sit himself up again, but Spike had pushed one of the smaller plastic trees on top of him before he could.
Christmas lights and garland fell around him, and Spike sprinkled some tinsel in his mouth for good measure. Adam spat it out as best as he could.
Spike started to take a lap around the lab, while Adam finally had the sense to stay down after getting forced down.
“Spike, come on-“ Davenport pleaded, picking up a piece of the mess Spike had created as a makeshift spear. Bree followed his lead. “You have to calm down. You’re alright. Come on…”
“Yeah, Chase,” Bree agrees, “just chill out.”
Spike had lifted up one of the many bright yellow barrels of who knows what Davenport stored in the lab, circling back to Adam. Davenport’s eyes widened, and he started to stand.
“No, no, no- Do not under any circumstances throw that. Chase, that’s an order!”
Spike sneered, propping his foot up on Adam’s chest. With a grunt, he lobbed the barrel across the room.
“Anybody else confused about the ‘don’t punch me’ rule?”
There was silence. Bree and Davenport gave each other a look. No confusion here.
Spike was breathing heavily, foot still pressed to Adam’s chest. He scanned the room, starting with Adam. The lab's decorations were a little worse for wear. A lot in the lab was worse for wear at this point. Bree and Davenport were still stationed behind the control panel, shaking and guarded. He focused in on their faces, his bionics decoding their body language and facial expressions. Scared, nervous, surprised, worried… It was all a big blur.
He fell to his knees. Adam rolled over so he wasn’t caught in the impact.
“What…” Bree rushed to her brother as soon as he fell, holding onto one of his shoulders. Chase looked up at her. “What happened?”
Spike was gone.
Davenport sighed with relief, dropping his impromptu weapon and taking the wreath off of his neck and onto the floor. Bree sat next to her younger brother and leaned against him, explaining the situation as best as she could. “Adam triggered your commando app and you went crazy.”
“I did all…” Chase looked around at the mess, and at his brother sitting up from the floor. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright, Chase.” Davenport sighed, it would be majorly expensive to get that control panel back to its former glory. “Adam, help me clean this up. Bree, help your younger brother. And Chase, when you’re feeling better, I need to take a look at your chip.”
This was humiliating.
Adam’s strength made cleanup very efficient, so Davenport didn’t really do much. Bree had managed to convince Chase he should take a quick nap in his tube, which was no easy feat. Chase was insistent he didn’t need it, though the way his eyes immediately shut when he entered the comfort of his sleeping space was telling.
His nap time was cut short when the lab was all cleaned up, a familiar knocking on the glass of his capsule door. Chase sighed and opened up, meeting Davenport’s eyes.
“Come on, Chase. Let’s get you hooked up.”
Begrudgingly, Chase left the comfort of his tube and followed Davenport to what remained of the control panel.
“It’s mostly intact,” Davenport explains. “I’ll have to work on it a little bit later, but for our purposes right now, it’ll be fine.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Chase, I said it was alright.”
Chase pulled up a stool by the control panel and sat, closing his eyes as Davenport hooked him up to it via the chip in his neck.
“Where’s the others?” Chase asks.
“The other room.” Davenport was preoccupied, moving from Chase’s neck to the control panel, tapping away at the buttons it still had. “I think they’re watching Bree’s show.”
Chase hummed, eyes still closed. He wasn’t so keen on the idea of seeing his own data, especially not after a Spike episode. That was none of his business unless Mr. Davenport said it was.
“Nothing abnormal…” Davenport mumbled. Chase opened his eyes, he was fine with seeing his data if it wasn’t abnormal. “A little cluttered, but your brain is always a little cluttered, hm?” Davenport chuckled. Chase didn’t see the humor. “Nothing new.”
Nothing new, Chase thought.
Davenport nodded to himself, then shut everything down. “You can unplug.” Chase did.
So his bionics weren’t the problem. That should have been a good thing, but Chase found himself wishing there was something wrong with his chip. Of course there wasn’t. There was something wrong with him.
He couldn’t control his senses and he couldn’t control his emotions. He couldn’t control anything. He hated feeling so out of control. He hated how his inability to control his senses and emotions lead to such severe glitches. Adam and Bree too, it wasn’t as if he was alone, but he still felt it. He couldn’t help but feel it.
At least Adam and Bree didn’t ruin Christmas.
“It’s probably just a glitch.” That wasn’t comforting, nor did Davenport mean it to be. “You need to be more careful, Chase. You’re dangerous.”
He was dangerous.
Chase had to be careful. He had thought he had already always been careful by default, but apparently not careful enough if Davenport didn’t think so.
The glow of Christmas was beginning to fade as the days went by. By the twenty-eighth, Davenport had the bionic teens back on their regular training regimen. It was an easy routine to get back into, they’ve been doing it their entire lives.
“I know I said I’d let you start going on real missions come the new year,” Davenport starts, his kids eyes glowing with excitement at the prospect, “but I really don’t think that’s a feasible goal anymore. It might have to wait another year.”
“You promised!” Chase retorts. The others agreed.
“No- No, I didn’t. I promised I’d think about it. And I did. I thought about it, and the answer is no. You aren’t ready.”
“This is so unfair,” Bree huffs, hands clenched into fists.
“Maybe it is, but I’m okay with being a little unfair if it means keeping you safe. Your glitches are making you guys extremely vulnerable. Until we can work through them, I’m not budging. You need more practice.”
“Mr. Davenport, we’ve been working so hard—“ Adam starts. Davenport holds up his hand.
“Enough. You all take a break. We’ll do some sparring in ten.”
Then he left, his kids drowning in disappointment.
Chase felt himself wanting to throw up. He felt the humming of the lab lights in his bones, but not as much as he heard them. The lights were loud. Bright and uncomfortable and loud. He pulled out a mat and sat on it cross legged, closing his eyes. Ten minutes of silence was all he needed. Ten minutes of peace.
He felt a kick in his ribs. Not a hard one, but a playful and prodding one. Chase groaned and looked up, eyes meeting with his older brother. Adam poked at his side with his shoe again.
“What’re you doing?”
“Trying to meditate,” Chase sneers.
“We’re sparring in ten minutes, you gotta keep that blood pumping.”
Bree shrugs. “I hate to agree, but he’s right.”
“See? I’m right.” Adam puts his arms under Chase’s armpits and pulls. “Up you go!”
“Adam!” Chase stumbles to his feet and groans, hands immediately clasping to his ears as soon as Adam releases him. “Yeah, whatever. Keep my blood pumping.” The blood was rushing through his ears and felt like it was bouncing around his skull.
“What’s with you today?” Adam asks. Chase shot him a look almost immediately.
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah, I was wondering that too,” Bree agreed. “You’ve definitely been holding back today. You might not be as strong as Adam, or even me, but you hit hard. You haven’t really been hitting hard today.”
“Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe I don’t hit hard.”
“Oh, come on!” Bree exclaims. “I know you. You do. Every single time we train you do. Especially this past year. We’ve all been getting so much stronger this year, you included.”
Adam pushed himself back into the conversation, using Bree’s head like an armrest. “Dude, especially on Christmas! You had me pinned down, I was helpless.”
Chase winces at the memory of a few days ago that he had been hoping to forget. “That wasn’t me.”
“Well, yeah. It was Spike. But it was still like… your body or whatever. Spike has your strength.”
“You do not know nearly enough about my commando app to be saying stuff like that about it.”
“I’m not talking about your commando thing, I’m talking about Spike.”
“Moral of the story,” Bree interrupts, “you’ve been holding back. That’s not up for debate. What’s up with that?”
Chase looks between Bree and Adam, searching for escape. He found none. There was never any space to escape to be alone in this stupid stuffy laboratory. He closed his eyes. Counted to ten.
“I’m sorry.”
“What?”
“We’re not going on our first mission in January like we had hoped we would and it’s all my fault. I’m sorry.”
“Chase, how in the world is this all your fault?” Bree narrows her eyes as she pushes Adam’s arm off of her head and walks closer to her other brother. Adam followed.
Chase lurched in on himself. This felt like an investigation. No matter how sweet and caring the looks in Adam and Bree’s eyes were, Chase would still feel under fire. He hated feeling so weak, but he really had to admit it now. He felt weak.
“I’ve been glitching so much recently.”
Chase’s whole posture relaxed. It was a relief to get those worries out of his brain and off of his tongue. Suddenly he appreciated how close his siblings were, just a little bit. He knew they would be fine with him feeling so weak, even if it was still something that he despised.
Bree cocked her head. “I mean, yeah. So have we.”
“Like when I accidentally nicked your shoulder with my laser eyes yesterday,” Adam offers.
Chase rolls his eyes. “You told me you did that on purpose.”
“Uh, yeah. The second time. But the first time it was a total glitch, I couldn’t stop myself.”
“And remember just this morning when I ran full speed into the door because Davenport caught me off guard while I was brushing my hair?” Bree adds.
“She made a Bree-shaped dent,” Adam pipes in. “It’s still kinda there.”
“Yeah, yeah. I see it.” Chase slumps, slinking onto a stool behind the good as new control panel. It was like he had never broken at all.
Bree sighs. “It’s not your fault, Chase. We all need to work on our glitches.”
Chase rolls his eyes, typing away at the control panel, doing virtually nothing. He just needed something to do with his hands.
“Stop.” Adam walked behind Chase, hugging him almost too tight and resting his chin on the top of his head. “You’re not allowed to mope.”
It was hard for Chase to mope when Adam was blocking his airflow. And soon Bree as well. It was hard to think at all when his older siblings were holding onto him so tightly. His siblings said he thought entirely too much.
Maybe next year. Maybe they’d get to go on their first real mission next year.