Chapter Text
“Okay, what?” Bree huffed her way out of the hyperlift, barely registering the step down into Mission Command as she opened a tiktok Adam had sent her. “This is the one day off I’ve had in, like, two weeks, so this better be good.”
“Don't freak out.”
As soon as Kaz said it, her head snapped up to find the crisis. She saw him leant gingerly on the cyberdesk, staring at her with a silver tool in his hand. Oliver chewed his fingernails from beside him.
And Mission Command was a disaster. Bree sniffed; smoke filled her nostrils. “What the…” she couldn't even decide on an obscenity. She stepped over broken glass, found herself staring at scattered tools across the floor. What she hoped was just water dripped from a sparking cyberdesk. “What did you do?!”
“It wasn't our fault!” Oliver shot forwards.
“So… we were attacked?”
“No.”
“Ambushed?”
“No.”
“An explosive went off?”
“I wish,” he swallowed, “But no.”
“So it was your fault.”
“Alright!” Kaz grimaced, hands fidgeting with the tool he held. Bree tried to get a closer look, but he shook it too much for her to see what it was. “Here's the deal. It was an accident, okay? Total accident! We were doing inventory on the tools, Oliver knocked into me, I spilled his water, then we tried to dry it and dropped the rag and then the water got into the tools and the tools started sparking and then we tried to stop it but then…” he gulped, “It just… started glitching and blasting on its own.”
“What did?” Bree folded her arms, looked around the room. God, these two were slobs! There was even a pile of clothes and shoes by one of the cyberdesks. “And I suppose you want my help to clean up before Chase finds you? This will teach you to do inventory without him. We have rules for a reason.”
But Kaz’s whole expression cringed. Oliver let out a whimper so small that Bree almost missed it. “Chase,” he swallowed, “was here.”
“Was? What are you talking about? Stop talking in riddles and just -” she snapped, snatched the stupid tool from Kaz’s stupid hands. “Stop fidgeting! Tell me what's going on. Where's Chase? What started blasting on its own?”
“That.”
Bree followed Kaz’s pointing finger to the device in her hands. She held it up, leaping back as clogged water poured out and narrowly missed her shoes. She knew this device: a long cylinder, about the size of a torch, with a ray-bulb at one end and activation switches cascading down the side. She hadn't seen this since the day Chase had turned Naomi…
Bree breathed out slowly. She clenched her jaw, pressed her tongue against her teeth to stop from screaming. Now that she looked again, she knew that pile of clothes and shoes. She had, in fact, bought those boots for him for Christmas.
“What…” she seethed, watched Kaz and Oliver flinch. “...happened?”
And before either of the boys in front of her could reply, Bree heard sniffing behind her.
She spun as fast as she could without using her superspeed. The first thing she saw was shadows behind a cyberdesk, then a tiny hand edged round the side. A strand of dark hair followed it, then a little nose, a pair of hazel eyes.
Bree's mouth dried before she could speak. She last saw that little boy in an old photo she posted to Instagram on his 18th birthday. Fourteen years later and he's still this short, she’d captioned it. He'd been grinning at the camera, triumphantly punching the air in his little Davenport Industries pyjamas, standing over his first engine in the Mission Creek lab.
She may as well be looking straight at that picture. Except now, blue tartan swamped him from his shoulders to his ankles, sleeves trailing way past his hands as he tried to suck his fingers through the fabric. He didn't even reach the height of the cyberdesk.
And he was staring at Bree like she was a stranger. His eyes rippled with bright tears, nose blotched pink. He sniffed fear back into his sinuses.
“He was asking for you and Adam,” Kaz murmured from behind her, “We thought -”
“Okay…” Bree breathed. She managed to close her jaw, rub feeling back into her mouth. “Okay, um…” Chase hadn't moved. His little hands gripped the edge of the cyberdesk like he was anchoring himself to the room. He just stared. Bree stared back. “Hi?”
He snapped his whole face into the cyberdesk. His nose mushed up into the wall, hands covering his eyes like he was about to be attacked.
He didn't recognise her.
Bree let her breath out; she heard Kaz groan behind her, but ignored him. If this was Chase, if Chase was, what, 3? Maybe 4 - he always was little for his age - then of course he would be nervous. They didn't even meet another human being outside their family until they were teenagers, no wonder he was frightened.
So she sunk herself as low as she could. She watched him shuffle back, peel his face away from the cyberdesk until his eyes trained on her. She settled into a kneel, hunching so she was face to face with him. “Chase,” she tried again; he let out a small gasp when she said his name. “Do you know who I am?”
His lips trembled like he was revving them up. He opened his mouth, made no sound, tried again. “I…” and Bree's chest tripped over itself; heat pricked behind her eyes. She hadn't heard that voice in years. “I want my brother and sister.”
“I know you do,” she sighed, looked back to Kaz. “This is torture for him, zap him back.”
“We can't,” Oliver grabbed the device from the desk, “It's broken, the water’s completely destroyed the circuits and we can't find any of his research to fix it!”
“So… you're saying he's just stuck like this?”
“Until we can build a new one, yeah.”
Bree’s stomach churned in place. She blinked, turned back to the little boy still staring at her expectantly. “Chase,” she breathed steadily; he was so much smaller than she remembered. “This might be a little hard to understand -”
“I understand everythin’,” he sniffed. “I have -” and he hiccuped, “a highly advanced intelligence.” Bree sighed, of course he did.
“Alright then, uh,” so she looked up, found no easy answer on the ceiling, and caught his gaze again. “I know I look a little different, but it’s me - I’m Bree.”
His eyebrows knotted, “No you're not. Bree's little like me. You're a grown-up.”
“Well…” she ran it over in her head. How in the world was she supposed to explain all this? “There was, uh,” she swallowed, “There was a little accident.”
“What?” His chest started firing tiny breaths. All of a sudden he shot his gaze to Kaz and Oliver, to the walls, to the cyberdesk, back to Bree. “No, no, no, you're lying!”
“Chase -”
“You don’t know me! I want to go home. Let me go! Adam! Bree! Mr Davenport!” Bree just gaped; she pulsed her arms out to him but he flinched in tearful panic. He threw himself backwards until he hit the cyberdesk. “No!”
“Okay,” she tried, but her own voice was drowned out by his wailing. She reached blindly, “Okay, okay, I’m -”
“Don’t hurt me!” but he made himself smaller. His eyes clamped shut, shaking terror rolling down his cheeks, fists pumping over his ears and - Bree’s throat clogged. God, he was so little. “Don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me -”
“Jeez,” Oliver’s voice added to the chaos; Bree tried again but Chase buried his head in his knees. “Didn’t know one of his abilities was bionic tantrums.”
“Leave him alone!” and Bree whirled around before she even thought to do it. An instinct fizzed in her stomach that she couldn’t quite place, puzzle pieces of a memory she didn’t have the whole image of. “He’s terrified, and this is your fault! And -”
Chase’s breath shifted into a gasp. Bree turned back, looked down just as the crying compressed further into a whimper. He shrunk into himself even more, his fingers stretched out from his fists and jammed directly in his ears. He shivered.
“Oh my God,” it fell out of her as she watched him. She’d seen that before - at school, when the bell rang; at the island, from Kate’s sonic scream; every time Adam yelled at a video game or Bree got in his face, too loud, too close. “It’s his ears.”
“What?”
“His ears,” she dropped her voice out of habit, hissing a whisper at a bewildered Kaz and Oliver. That stupid aging device - it had made Chase little… but he still had his adult-sized bionic chip. “His supersenses are driving him crazy. Dim the lights.”
They moved without complaint, and Bree took a breath when she knelt again. Her heart banged loudly in her chest, but she swallowed it down. She breathed calm, settled back to his level as the harsh LEDs sunk to a gentler hue.
“Hey,” Bree whispered as quietly as she could. Chase’s chest rose a little deeper, “Is that better?”
She waited, watched, and sure enough his fingers unplugged from his ear drums. Two wide circles peeked out from where they were hidden in his knees; she smiled back.
“You yell like Bree does when she’s annoyed.”
“Yeah,” she chuckled, dropped herself further to sit with her legs crossed, “Some coincidence, huh?”
“I don’t believe you’re Bree,” he took a big breath, and let it out as flashes of bionics simmered in his eyes. She let him analyse her, “It’s not rational.”
“I know,” she nodded, “But there was an accident with an invention - your invention, actually. You don’t remember, but you’re really 18 and I’m 19. These two losers behind me are our friends.”
“Hey.”
“S’up, baby Chase.”
“I am not a baby! I am 4 years, 7 months and 16 days old!” He settled in confidence, pushed himself onto his feet; his eyes narrowed, circling around the room, then found Bree again. “And it doesn’t make sense that it’s my invention. Mr Davenport doesn’t let me invent things without him anymore, ever since -”
“Your motion sensor night light you made out of the microwave for Adam accidentally lasered off his eyebrows? Yeah, Chasey, I remember, I was there.”
His jaw sunk in a gasp; he blinked recognition. “Woah…”
“Go ahead,” she gestured, “I promise I’m not lying. Scan me with your chip - same DNA, same bionics. Same old Bree.”
She forced another smile to mask her held breath; she didn’t even know if Chase could control his bionics like this. But his fingers found his temple, his lips scrunched in concentration and he blinked. She waited.
“Bree? It is you!”
“I told y -” Wind knocked out of her with the immediate collision. His knee jammed into her stomach in the ferocity of his jump. “Okay -” she wheezed, caught him as his hands reached around her neck. “Easy - okay - stop wriggling! This is a new sweater.”
“What’s going on?” but the whisper in her ear made her still. He crouched into her, eyes locked on Kaz and Oliver; he dipped behind her shoulder when they waved. Bree sighed, she gave up and let him clutch the fabric at her back, “Where’s the lab, Bree? I don’t get it.”
“Uh…” she clambered to her feet, pondered lying, but took another look at the sharpness in his eyes and remembered he wouldn’t buy it anyway. “We moved,” she shifted his weight on her hip, glared at Kaz and Oliver as they pursed their lips to hide their laughter.
“Why?”
“Because Mr Davenport said so.”
“Why?”
“Because our friends needed our help.”
“Why?”
“Because -” she huffed, breathed patience. But before she could placate him; he leant forwards to whisper again.
“Are we bionic soldiers after all?”
“What?” Bree blinked; the eyes staring back melted wide, his shoulders shrinking in anticipation at her answer. He looked scared… but why would he think that? They were always taught they were going to be heroes. The only person who wanted them to be bionic soldiers was Douglas, but she didn’t remember a time before Mr Davenport, none of them did!
His chip must somehow be feeding him information he’d learnt in adulthood.
“No,” she shook her head quickly, coughed moisture back into her mouth. “No, no Chase, not at all. We’re heroes, and normal people now. In fact you actually accidentally dated a shapeshifter this one time and we -”
“Bree,” Oliver hissed, put her rambling out of its misery. “Does he need to know all that? That seems harsh for a four-year-old.”
“And seven months!” Chase corrected, glared, but turned back to Bree where he sat perched on her hip, “And what the heck is shapeshifters?”
The hyperlift flashed into action before she could explain. Chase flinched at the noise, turned to stare at the doors as they hissed open. Bree caught Kaz’s eye, who just shrugged guiltily.
“We needed some back-up,” he confessed.
“Oliver? Kaz? What happened? Why is it so dark in here?” Mr Davenport paced straight towards them in half-dark. Bree froze; winced as she braced for the impact of -
“Mr Davenport? Wow, you’re old now!”
Yep - Bree was toast.
“Excuse me?” Davenport stopped in his tracks. His eyebrows shot up, honing in on Bree as her nerves bubbled up in a laugh. She set Chase down on the floor when he squirmed, and when he walked up towards his father, Mr Davenport stopped breathing. He stared down at the boy barely passing his knees. “I -” his jaw hung, he picked it back up, “I’m sorry, is that -”
“Uh-huh,” Bree sighed, then pointed a very fast, very certain finger at Oliver and Kaz. “Blame those two morons.”
“Mr Davenport, did you know that Bree has friends other than me and Adam? Because I don’t think that’s logical.”
“Hey!” she scoffed, “That’s perfectly logical! I have plenty of friends.”
He looked back at her from Mr Davenport’s legs, head tilted in desperation to understand. “But you called them morons. That’s not nice.”
“Yeah, Bree,” she felt stupid Kaz’s stupid grin from behind her without even having to look. “That’s not nice.”
“Okay, okay,” Davenport’s sigh rattled deep out of him; a hand scraped down his face in exhausted disbelief. “We have bigger problems… or,” he crouched, “One very little one. My god, I feel like I time-travelled.”
“I do as well,” Chase nodded vehemently, and Bree just watched the quiet shock in Mr Davenport’s eyes as Chase innocently tapped a hand to his father’s chest to get his attention, “But if there’s a problem with an invention, since you’re here, can I help? Please, Mr Davenport, please, please, please?” He bounced on his feet.
“I… don’t see why not,” Davenport chuckled, then as Chase grinned his giddy triumph, parted himself with his toddler-sized son to stand and look at the others. “It shouldn’t take us long to find the fix. I texted Douglas as soon as I saw the word disaster in Kaz’s text. He should be down any second.”
“Where do you keep your tools in here?” Chase wasn’t listening, tripping over the fabric of the trailing shirt as he scanned Mission Command. “Can I hold the screwdriver? Can I? Can I?”
“And maybe let’s get the poor kid in some pants first,” Davenport caught Bree’s eye. “Honey, there’s a box in the attic in Mission Creek with some of your old clothes. Could you superspeed and get them?”
“Sure,” she dodged Chase rummaging through a drawer he had found on a bottom shelf. His eyes shone with an adorably dorky fascination. She wondered if he might get nervous at her leaving, but he honestly hadn’t even noticed her move at all.
But the hyperlift flashed again before Bree could step inside. Davenport had already moved on to inspecting the water-logged aging device; Kaz was interrupting his inventor’s monologue to make sure Mr Davenport knew to blame Oliver, and Oliver was interrupting that to fight his corner. So when Douglas stepped into his room, craned his neck to the bombsite of ruined equipment on the cyberdesk, there was so much noise already going on in the room, and Chase was still so rapt in his box of nuts and bolts, that he didn’t even look up.
Bree didn’t even think to stop him.
“Oh my goodness,” and when Douglas saw Chase, he gasped an awed inbreath. He stepped gently towards him, “Is this him?”
“No,” Bree couldn’t resist, “He’s the other four-year-old in the room who’s obsessed with tools.”
“Four and seven months!” Chase looked up to defend himself -
And screamed.
His little head came face to face with a crouching Douglas; the sound immediately sliced through the room. Bree’s heart lurched, Davenport clattered his tool on the cyberdesk.
And Chase bolted. His legs scrambled underneath the flannel; Douglas tried to say his name, but Chase slammed into Bree in a second.
“He found us!” Chase’s whole body trembled, he pushed at Bree’s legs like he could will them to work, “He found us! Don’t let him take me!”
“Oh, kid,” Douglas had gone pale; Bree kept her hand on Chase’s back as he screamed. His little heart thumped like it had superspeed. “Chase, I know that must have been scary,” Douglas lowered himself, “But I’m not evil anymo -”
“No!” His face went pink. “No, no, no! He’s come back to take us! I don’t want to go with Daddy!” And his head hid entirely in Bree’s jeans. Douglas’s face cracked.
“Chase -”
“Back off, Douglas! You’re scaring him!” Bree swallowed in shock at her own tone. Douglas froze in place. But the screaming wouldn’t stop; Bree knelt down to Chase’s level again, she fought desperately to catch his eye behind the terrified streams of tears, but he wasn’t looking in one place. He was crying more than he could breathe. “Chase!” she tried, “Chase,” God, this was so weird, “He’s not going to hurt you. Please just -”
“You gotta -” but he hiccuped into her shoulder, his little knuckles white with the force he held on with. “Superspeed away! Get Adam! Daddy’s going to hurt us!”
“Ssh,” she was at a loss, her hands reached blindly for the back of his head. Her own chest ran fast, and then -
A pair of legs invaded her eyeline from where she crouched. She looked up; she saw her father’s smile, the firm hand on her shoulder she knew so well. “Mr Davenport -”
“Bree, give him to me.”
But she couldn’t. She couldn’t let go. Chase was clawing at her, begging into her ears to keep him safe.
“It’s okay, I’ve got him.” He swiped him from the ground without argument. “Hey, buddy…” And the screaming stopped instantly. Bree just breathed, stared from where she sat crumpled on the ground. Mr Davenport’s voice had softened, his hands wrapped around Chase like they were built for that exact purpose; Bree had never seen him like that before. And when Chase realised where he was, he just stared. He watched Mr Davenport’s face, his little chest pulsing up and down in stunned spurts.
“Mr Davenport!” And his head thunked quickly into his shoulder, “Don’t let Daddy get us!”
“Why is he saying that?” Bree’s legs numbed when she stood. Her voice stung with a crack, “How does he remember? We never remembered.” She didn’t know they ever called him Daddy. “Fix this!”
“Why don’t we take him upstairs?” But Mr Davenport kept his voice low, just rubbed a hand gently on Chase’s back. “Keep him away from Douglas so he doesn’t panic.”
“I’ll, um,” when Douglas spoke, Bree couldn’t look at him. Hot rage kept her line of sight locked in place on her brother; his voice became grated spikes. “I’ll stay down here and fix the device with the guys. I…” he swallowed; Bree closed her eyes. “I’m really sorry.”
“Come on, honey,” she followed blindly to the hyperlift when Mr Davenport tugged her sleeve; he shifted Chase into his other arm, who had curled up into silence again. “Guess the three of us are playing house today.”