AN: ***ATTENTION*** This is the LAST chapter of Bionic Stolen!!! Don't worry, though! I have a few twists planned for this very special chapter. Hehehehehehe!!! The sequel shall be...interesting. The title will be announced at the end of this chapter, so make sure to READ the author's note!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Lab Rats characters or the parts of the plot that are from the book Girl Stolen by April Henry.

Dedications: I have two dedications to make:

1) I dedicate this chapter to @kellbellelovr for her wonderful idea. Thank you for your continued support throughout this story. It means a lot to me! I appreciate how you stuck with my story the whole time. Some people commented on the first few chapters and then lost interest. So again, thank you!!! You rock!!!

2) I also dedicate this chapter to @Smilie254 for her idea from the beginning of this book. I finally found a good place to use it, and I personally think it was a very good twist! Your such a talented writer, and I appreciate you reading my story as well. It is truly an honor to have you and everyone else on Wattpad support me. Thanks Smilie!!!

Previously on Bionic Stolen-

"Where?" I asked quizzically and squinted my eyes. He dropped his arm with a slight plopping noise and opened the gate.

"The kitchen. I heard it myself. Your hungry."

Trevor's P.O.V.

Douglas was being too easy. Donald got a full day to think about the offer. If it was me, I'd just hold a knife to her throat until he agreed to my demands.

She deserved it too. She gets to live in this big mansion and attend a prestigious school. She probably owns several cars with chauffeurs to drive each of them. She must eat extravagant feasts every night. I'll bet she has maids and butlers working at her hand an foot. To summarize, she's nothing but a spoiled rat.

And Chase? Well, he's a different story. From what Marcus told me, his mother was an ungrateful, stubborn deadweight. That's probably where he gets his attitude from. Whenever we're assigned a mission, he's always the first to object or question the purpose. He's always like, "But why do we have to do this? Nothing they did ever effected us in a negative way."

Pathetic.

If you ask me, it just proves his weakness. Or weaknesses...

Since that girl arrived here, Chase has been even more distracted than usual. When I ran into him this morning, he wasn't alert like he was trained to be. It was like he was in a trance. It's really kinda sad how easily he let his guard down. And he let me leave! After that first blow, he didn't strike back. He just huddled inside his protective, little, force field of his and waited for me to walk away.

Again, pathetic.

He needs to learn a lesson. My dad didn't raise me to sit on the sidelines and go along with the crowd. He taught me to take matters into my own hands and put everyone else in their place. Teach them right from wrong. In Chase's case, he need to learn to finish the job. So that's what I'm going to do. Teach him to stay focused and get his missions done the right way. And I have the perfect way to snap Chase out of his little trance...

Chase's P.O.V.

"Well, we don't have much here," I started, peering into the rusty fridge. "Just some venison and Douglas's beer."

Bree groaned from behind me and picked up the packet of jerky from the counter.

"Can I eat this?" she asked.

"Knock yourself out," I mumbled and grabbed a bottle of water.

We had just slipped out of her cell, thankfully unnoticed by Douglas and the others. That was all due to my thermal scanner. No one was on the third floor. Apparently, Douglas was prepping them for another mission in the garage.

Bree greedily ripped open the sealed package of meat and took a bite. She chewed slowly for a few seconds, like she wanted to make sure the jerky wouldn't bite her back.

"Mmm," she sighed through a closed mouth. "this is actually pretty good."

I unscrewed the plastic cap of my water bottle and took a swig.

"Uh, Chase?" Bree called with a mouthful of jerky.

Charming.

"Where's the restroom?"

"Just walk down the hallway. You'll find it easily enough," I directed her. She gave me a slight nod before scurrying out the door.

Several minutes past, and Bree still hadn't returned.

"Bree?" I called out, hoping for a reply. Or a few footsteps. Something to symbolize that she was okay.

Nothing. No answer. No footsteps. Just the eerie silence. Even my bionic hearing couldn't pick up anything.

Then I heard a small gasp.

I rushed out of the room in search of Bree. She wasn't anywhere in the hall, and the bathroom door was wide open.

Where could she b- wait.

The training room.

I tore down the corridor in hopes that she'd be in the training center, out of harms way. I reached the doorway and stopped in my tracks.

Bree was in there. Just standing in the middle of the room, admiring all of the equipment. And there was a lot. We had multiple weight sets, including a bench press, for Jake and Marcus, a few high-powered treadmills for Trevor and a combat simulator. The walls were lined with blue mats for sparring, and model weapons littered the shelf in the far corner of the room. Practice dummies were randomly stacked by the door, and a cyber desk and console sat next to the the left wall.

"Chase," Bree gasped, sensing my presence behind her. "what is this pl-"

"This is our training room," I interrupted, obviously not needing to hear anything else from her to know what she was going to say.

Without another word, she stalked over to Trevor's super speed tread mill. She carefully placed one hand on the side guards, treating it like if she pressed too hard it would disintegrate.

"Bree?" I called to her. She didn't turn from the machine. She didn't even reply. She just sniffled and caressed the arm of the treadmill with her hand.

"Bree?" I tried again. This time, she turned to face me with tears welling up in her eyes. She took in a shaky breath and staggered over to my side. She wrapped her arms around my neck and cried. After I got out of the initial shock, my arms came to rest around her back, careful to avoid her blisters, of course. She was quietly sobbing into my chest, her head turned so her cheek was pressed against my black suit. I tried to hush her by whispering soothing 'shh' sounds by her ear. She eventually pulled away with a tearstained face and fumbling fingers.

"Sorry, Chase. It's just..." she trailed off, glancing back at the treadmill. "It's just upsetting knowing I'll never be able to activate my bionics. I'll never get to run at the speed of lightning or go on lifesaving missions."

I understood how she felt. Excluded from the 'wonderful' world of bionics. All she's ever wanted was to be like her brothers. She wanted to be a hero.

According to her, nobody at home cared for her enough to train her...Kinda like no one here cares about me.

Except for Bree.

She helped me open up about my abuse. She comforted me when Douglas hurt me. She taught me how to stay strong- just like she was staying strong here, in this prison. In short, she cared about me.

And it's only fair if I return the favor.

"Bree," I started. She looked up at me with her glistening chocolaty eyes.

"I'm going to train you. You'll be a true bionic."

AN: Okay, so I really liked this chapter. It was fun to write, and hopefully it was good to read! Now... I will reveal... THE TITLE OF THE SEQUEL!!!

The sequel will be called:

Bionic Escaped

What do you guys think?

Again, this will be the last chapter, unless I post an author's note saying that Bionic Escaped is up.

Remember to Vote Comment and Follow!!! The grand total for this book (as of October 10, 2014) is 6.57 views, 188 votes and 115 comments!!! That makes me so HAPPY!!!

Until next book...(see what I did there?)

PEACE OUT PICKLES!!!