Author's Notes: This oneshot is a story I started in October 2017 and have been picking at for nearly two years whenever I felt like it. I love science fiction, and I love history. It felt like this story was a good vehicle to explore both. It's kinda funny that Michael Bay's first movie actually had a good idea for a unique Lovecraftian Transformers story, yet it was relegated to a two minute backstory while we followed spoiled brat Sam Witwicky. Archibald isn't even listed as a character on the dropdown box for fanfic characters included in the story. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this little experiment, and please review :)
Goodnight, Dr. Witwicky
By Madness Jones
The screams and howls of the patients at the Blessed Hands Asylum & Sanitarium were deafening. Dr. Archibald Witwicky was among those adding to the cacophony of noises and the unholy symphony of those condemned for everything from insanity to dementia to physical deformity. Behind these walls writhed the dregs of humanity, and Archibald's own son believed he belonged here with these deranged lunatics.
He felt the weight of the injustice as he sunk back down on his flat mattress and pulled the moth-eaten blanket over himself. He wasn't crazy. He knew what he saw, even if he couldn't quite describe it. Even if no one believed him, he knew. He had discovered a sleeping giant and was sure everyone was in danger, yet they treated him like a crackpot.
It had all started on one of his many expeditions. Dr. Witwicky was an explorer and archaeologist, one of the most brilliant and well traveled men of his generation. He had been all over the world discovering new and interesting pieces of ancient human cultures. Many of his peers thought ancient Egypt was all that mattered, but Archibald wanted to see more than mummies and carvings of house cats. He wanted to find something no one else had found before. Well, he had found it, and it cost him his freedom.
Dr. Witwicky and his crew wanted to know more about the Inuit tribes that lived near the region of The Arctic they were exploring. They were sure no human beings had ever lived in this particular area where they were digging, but many reported unusual things such as dogs getting spooked when they drove their sleds near the area and strange rumbling noises. Some believed it was polar bears, while others feared it was wicked spirits. Dr. Witwicky's curiosity was piqued, so he had to search for himself.
He and his crew had dug for hours with no luck, but then just as they were ready to give up, Archibald fell through the ice! He blacked out when he fell fifteen feet below, and his crew couldn't risk trying to go down there to save him with so much slick ice. He laid there for an undetermined amount of time, but he was sure it couldn't have been long otherwise he would've caught hypothermia.
When Archibald awoke he couldn't believe what he saw no more than 30 feet away from him. It was a giant metal statue. It was knocked over and laying on its side, but it was still mostly intact. Archibald wondered to himself if this had been some sort of idol worshipped by the ancient tribes thousands of years ago. That seemed unlikely however, since the oddly constructed thing was made of metal. This region didn't have an abundance of metals, and the hunters of this area tended to use bone to construct their tools and weapons.
Dr. Witwicky stepped closer to the construct in the hopes of learning more about it. He reached out and touched it...
Before he even realized what was happening, two glowing red eyes appeared on the being and Archibald was knocked backwards by an incredible unseen force! There were odd marks on his spectacles, and he sat there dazed for several seconds. He looked to find that the red lights were gone and the beast rested once more.
"B-B-Beast?" Archibald whispered as he shivered both from both cold and shock, "Is this s-s-some sort of devil? H-H-Have I awoken a d-d-demon? No! Get ahold of yourself, Archie! T-T-There must b-be another explanation for this..."
It had taken Archibald nearly half an hour to climb out of the ice cavern he had fallen into, and a two mile walk to find his team. By the time he got back he was bitterly cold, haggard, and shaken to his core. No one believed his story about the ice monster. He begged them to come back with him to see for themselves, but everyone was too eager to get back on the ship and return home.
After they returned Archibald Witwicky told anyone who would listen about the monster in the cavern, but no one heeded him. To the rest of the world he was just a loony old man. His son heard about how his father had been 'embarrassing the family' with such tales and quickly had him committed. He didn't even bother replacing his father's spectacles; he just threw the old ones in a box in the attic and sent his father away.
Now here Archibald lay, in a solitary room separate from the other patients, wondering when the end of civilization was coming, and if it would be his fault for awakening the metal ice monster. He only hoped he had not doomed the world to extinction by his actions as he drifted off into another fitful night's sleep; accompanied by the howls and painful cries of his fellow patients.
"And this is the common room where our less dangerous patients are allowed two hours of free time each day," The elderly nurse said to their new hire as she guided her on a tour of the facility, "I must say that I am grateful we have some more help. It's hard to find unattached women qualified to work with these patients. Most nurses would rather work at one of the big hospitals as opposed to an asylum. Um, what was your name again dear?"
"Patsy," The dark haired fair skinned new hire replied, "Patsy Loveless, and I can assure you ma'am that there isn't any other place I would have even considered. When can I start?"
"How soon are you available?" The first nurse asked Patsy.
"Now," Patsy replied with a smile that bordered between friendly and feral, "I have nowhere else to be and nothing else to do with my time. Whenever you need me to be here, I'll be here."
"Oh, well that's wonderful!" The first nurse replied; a bit flustered but happy nonetheless, "Come by tomorrow morning dear. It'll mostly be cleaning up after patients for the first few days. Need to make sure you can handle yourself dear."
"Of course," Patsy nodded formally, "I'll see you tomorrow. Good day, Ms. Chapman."
With those words Patsy Loveless walked away and left the building. She smiled to herself at how well her plan was working already.
These infantile creatures are so mailable. Patsy thought to herself. That wasn't a real background check! There was no scan for my spark signature, no way to contact my references beyond an easily forged letter or a remotely controlled telegram, and they can't even figure out I'm using an assumed name! Poor foolish animals...I could probably murder one of the patients right in front of them and still come up with an excuse to convince them it didn't happen.
The pretender class Decepticon wiped some dust particles off the cuff of her long sleeved white uniform. She was in fact one of the Decepticons' many spies planted throughout the galaxy that were kept around to search for Autobots or any other activity of note. Well, she certainly found something of interest when she discovered that there was an old man that had seen Megatron's body and knew where he was located. Megatron had likely found the Allspark, so if she found one then she would find the other, and their species would be saved.
All she had to do was pry the information from Archibald Witwicky. She would tear it from his body by ripping out his brain if she had to. Nothing would stop Patsy from her quest to reclaim what rightfully belonged to the Decepticons.
The next day Patsy went to work punctually and performed her duties as if she were merely attempting to fulfill her new role as a nurse proficiently. She knew it would be faster if she simply started with torturing Archibald Witwicky, but the staff was watching her now, and she needed to lull these flesh creatures into a false sense of security.
She spent hours tending to those that were simple, those that were blind and deaf, those that were demented, and many other types as well. She hadn't realized until this moment how many things could go wrong with the organic structure. When a Cybertronian was defective they were killed and recycled, but humans didn't work that way, and it made the pretender feel nothing but disgust and contempt for the beings she was supposedly caring for.
Finally, after nearly five hours of monotony, Patsy could take no more. She had to see Dr. Witwicky and find out where her leader was. She strode down the hall and toward Witwicky's room with purpose, though her stiff posture gave away nothing but grim professionalism.
Archibald sat on his mattress carving into the brick wall with a toothpick to pass the time. It didn't leave deep permanent marks, and Archibald was no artist, but he simply needed something to do to occupy his troubled mind.
The door opened and he saw a tall lithe young nurse standing in the doorway; her expression stern and her eyes cold.
"Dr. Witwicky, I heard talk around town that you saw an ice monster on your adventures," The nurse said coolly.
"Are you here to make fun of me too?" Archibald asked bitterly, "I would think with all these loonies around here you'd have something better to do than make sport of my misery."
"On the contrary, Dr. Witwicky. I believe you," Patsy replied without inflection, "Tell me what you saw, and where you saw it."
"You- you believe me?" Archibald asked incredulously, "You're lying! No one believes me, but I know what I saw! I awakened a monster, a terrible fiend, and now we are all doomed!"
"Where?" Patsy pressed him on the subject.
"In the Arctic of course!" Archibald snapped; embittered by his circumstances and frustrated by the unknown element of his discovery, "I saw a metal monster, and a light drove me away from it. It was sharp at every angle, and reminded me of an exotic insect. It was silver in appearance, with a form almost beyond comprehension, and its eyes were red and angry. Please do not take me for a madman, for I know of what I speak. I can only pray it does not come for us, for none could survive such raw power."
"Indeed," Patsy replied; still standing in the doorway with the same stern expression, "If you were asked, could you draw a map of where the creature was?"
"No," Archibald lamented, "I probably could have while I was still there, but it has been too long, and my journey since then too great. I gave everything I could in the name of discovery, and all I have accomplished has led me here, to this fetid dungeon of rotting flesh and raving minds. What was the point? All sacrifice has ever given me is a dead son, a dead wife, and a family that cannot even bother to care for me when I'm old. What was the point of it all?"
At this point Archibald was holding his head in his hands and fidgeting anxiously. Patsy feared he would be of no more use now that he had been reduced to rambling. She needed that map, however. She would have to find a way to jog his memory. It was her only chance to prove herself to her superiors.
"If I brought you paper and a pen, would you attempt to recreate the Arctic setting?" Patsy inquired, "Perhaps then you could recall where you saw the metal giant?"
"Well...I could certainly try," Archibald conceded, "It would at least give me something to do. Thank you for believing me miss, um..."
"Patsy," Patsy introduced herself shortly, "Yes, I will bring the tools, and you will decode what you saw. I must attend to other patients for now though. Before I go, is there anything I can get you?"
"Some water would be lovely," Archibald replied with a grateful smile.
Patsy sighed but nonetheless agreed to get him some water. She reminded herself that she should boil it first and then cool it with her body temperature. The water these humans allowed themselves to drink was riddled with contaminants, and even though she didn't like her patients it was still technically her job to keep them alive. She didn't forget her real mission though. Soon old Dr. Witwicky would give her what she wanted and then she could be done with this place forever.
The next day Patsy gave the paper to Archibald first thing and then left him to attend to her other duties. She waited several hours for the old explorer to finish his map, all the while changing sheets and shaving the heads of patients to prevent lice. It was a dirty thankless job, and she was glad it wasn't her permanent position.
When she returned to Witwicky's room she saw that he was using the paper to draw, not a map, but a person. It was a crude drawing that certainly wouldn't win him any awards, but she could tell it was supposed to be a human in some sort of military uniform.
"What have you done?" Patsy asked accusingly, "You were supposed to draw where you saw Megatr-, um, the metal beast."
"I know, but I couldn't remember the layout of the terrain," Archibald replied apologetically, "Besides, I wanted a picture of my son Samuel."
"If I recall correctly, you have four children," Patsy pointed out, "Why do you only want a picture of this one?"
"I had five children," Archibald corrected her, "This was my oldest; Samuel Witwicky. He was a soldier in the war."
"Union or Confederacy?" Patsy asked; mildly curious.
"Union," Archibald replied morosely, "He was shot right in the heart during the Battle of Perryville. At least he didn't have to suffer. The mantra of our family has always been 'no sacrifice, no victory'. My father taught that to me, and I taught it to my sons. Samuel lived up to that, but sometimes I wish I had never taught him that. Right now all I want is for my son to be alive and well."
"I understand. I have also lost relatives and friends to war," Patsy told him; leaving out the fact that it was a Cybertronian war, "My older brother was shot, and I also lost my carrier in a conflict."
"Carrier?" Archibald asked in confusion.
"Sorry. That is a local colloquialism where I am from that means mother," Patsy explained calmly.
"So, which side of the war did you support?" Archibald asked.
"Neither really," Patsy shrugged, "I tried to stay out of it at first, but both sides made it very difficult to live as a neutral. I suppose I was weak, hungry, and frightened. When I lost my brother I realized I had a choice to make, the old outdated system or a new way of life that valued effort over birthright. I chose the new way."
Patsy couldn't believe she had just opened up like that to a human, a feeble committed human at that. Then again, Archibald could tell no one of her exploits even if she came out and revealed herself right then and there. He was trapped and completely at her mercy. That made him the perfect person to listen to her troubles, and hopefully it would lead to the reward of learning Megatron's location.
"The new way, huh?" Archibald repeated her last statement, "So, you were also for the Union by the end."
"Hm...I suppose so, though it is more complicated than that," Patsy replied hesitantly.
She had never compared the Great Cybertronian War to the Civil War, but in a way it made sense. The Autobots were like the Confederates in that they represented an old system, but like the Union in that they believed in equality for all. The Decepticons were like the Union in that they wanted to abolish old laws, but like the Confederacy in that they wanted their own separate government away from the Autobots. Their wars were not the same, but they both ended in great loss and suffering for everyone involved. That much Patsy understood as she saw the pain in Archibald's eyes.
"Are there any photographs of Samuel in circulation?" Patsy asked despite herself.
"No," Archibald replied, "Cameras are expensive, and there were no photographers where we lived when Sam was little. It's alright though. I'll have this picture drawn in a few more minutes."
"I wish I knew what he looked like," Patsy said quietly, "Then I could draw him for you. I...wish you did not have to experience his death."
"Thank you, Patsy," Archibald replied with a worn smile, "You know, you're the only nurse in this entire god forsaken facility that I can stand being around for more than 5 minutes. I'm grateful that you believe me."
"I will believe you better once you draw the map," Patsy replied flatly; ready to have a guide to her leader.
Archibald merely chuckled despite her stern tone. Patsy had noticed that her stern demeanor had different effects depending on what type of human she was with. Children and young females took her seriously, older females told her to smile more, young males either ignored or demeaned her, and old males laughed at her as if she were a petulant child. Then again if she recalled correctly earth was a patriarchal society very similar to Cybertron before most of the femmes had been killed.
Patsy sighed to herself as she remembered that last part. Femmes were mostly extinct because of Megatron's selfish pursuit of the Allspark. He didn't want them around to challenge his absolute power over the future of the Cybertronian race. Pretenders like Patsy had been spared because Pretenders were highly valued as spies, but she knew if she dared to conceive a sparkling Starscream would kill her himself. It was a grisly fact that she simply had to live with.
"I must return to my duties, Dr. Witwicky," Patsy informed him as she stood up, "I hope you can remember the location soon."
"Thank you," Archibald replied with a heavy sincerity that caught Patsy off guard.
"Thank me? Why?" Patsy asked in confusion.
"For calling me Dr. Witwicky," Archibald replied gratefully, "Since I came here no one has called me by my proper title, if they bothered to even address me at all. Thank you, Ms. Loveless."
Patsy didn't know how to respond to such a pathetic yet endearing display of appreciation, so she simply nodded her head once and said "Goodnight, Dr. Witwicky."
Weeks had passed without progress on the map. It had quickly become apparent that Archibald Witwicky simply couldn't recall where the body of Megatron was buried. Patsy discovered something however that changed everything...she realized that she wasn't disappointed.
Since meeting Dr. Witwicky, Patsy had realized how much she had wanted to leave the Decepticons and Cybertron behind and simply start over. She saw that many humans in the asylum also lived with the scars of war, including Dr. Witwicky. She had met veterans, widows, and those that had lost sons. Each story was tragic, yet to her they bore a ring of familiarity. The humans were not so different from Cybertronians, even if they were small and frail by comparison.
Patsy also realized just how long the Cybertronian War had lasted. The Autobots and Decepticons had been systematically killing each other for hundreds of thousands of vorns. Humans had only been around for a few hundred vorns, and yet despite the youth of their species had already experienced much. The American Civil War only lasted a few years, and then they made laws that would allow for begrudging peace. Why couldn't Cybertron do that? Did they even deserve the Allspark?
Patsy sat up in her room after everyone else had gone to sleep. Some nurses had homes to return to after work, but Patsy had opted to live within the asylum so that she could avoid paying rent. Then again, she didn't really know what to do with the money she was currently making since she didn't need to buy anything. Well, there were a few things she bought...
On Patsy's desk was a sheet of paper and various types of pencils. She bought both lead and charcoal, not knowing which was better. She used her metallic fingernails to sharpen the pencils every time one broke during her project. It was annoying that humans had yet to invent the stylus or the data pad.
A few days prior Patsy had poured over family records at the public library in Dr. Witwicky's hometown. He said there were no childhood photos of Samuel, but she wanted to be sure there was also nothing of him as an adult. As luck would have it however she had indeed found an old photograph of him. It was a group shot of Union soldiers standing in front of a cannon, but she had managed to pick out which one was Samuel. His facial structure and eyes were just like his father's. She then set to work drawing a lifelike replica of the young man to give to Archibald. She didn't know why she wanted him to have it, but she felt compelled to give him something to ease the pain and humiliation of living in the Blessed Hands snake pit.
Months passed in Blessed Hands, and Patsy and Dr. Witwicky grew closer. What had started as a strained patient/nurse relationship soon became a friendship that both drew comfort from. Archibald kept both finished portraits of his son Samuel pinned to the wall of his room, and he and Patsy would talk late into the night after her regular duties were finished. He secretly wondered if that woman ever slept, and probably would have been surprised to learn the answer was maybe a couple hours a week. Of course, she never told him she was a pretender, and he suspected nothing was amiss about her.
Patsy had gone from simply giving the old man water to bringing him earl grey tea since he had mentioned it was his favorite. Every night they talked about lost loved ones, great adventures, and the dreams they had in youth. When the wee hours of the morning arrived Patsy would take her leave and say "Goodnight, Dr. Witwicky". At this point it had become routine.
On this particular night Patsy had just finished changing the sheets for a patient that wet the bed and had heated her metallic hands up to kill the germs. She didn't need to fear germs, but she didn't want to contaminate Dr. Witwicky's tea. She prepared the tea as always and walked to his room with the tray. Holding the tray with one hand, she knocked on the patient's solitary room and announced herself.
"Dr. Witwicky, it's Patsy," Patsy announced in her typical stiff voice.
There was no answer.
*knock* *knock* *knock* "Dr. Witwicky? Are you awake?" Patsy called out again.
Feeling a little annoyed that Archibald was asleep at so early an hour she barged in and was ready to shake the man awake. She stopped in her tracks when she got a good look at him. His eyes were open, but they looked as lifeless as glass. There was a bit of bubbled drool collected around his mouth. He was stiff. He was dead.
...
Archibald Witwicky was buried in the local cemetery three days later. His family had claimed his body but didn't bother to have him transported back to their hometown. Patsy attended the funeral despite not entirely understanding human death customs. On Cybertron a body was either shot into the sun, melted down, or stripped for parts for the living. Still, she felt she had to be there for him.
Patsy didn't speak to any of the relatives. She didn't really want to know them. She knew what kind of place the asylum was and judged Archibald's family harshly for allowing their patriarch to rot there. To those attending the funeral, she was just a random nurse that decided to show up.
When everyone else had gone she remained. She had stood by a tree for most of the proceedings so she wouldn't bother anyone else. When everyone left though, Patsy walked over to the grave; the dirt still soft from the fresh burial. She bent down and placed her hand on the flat marker, tracing the engraved name and dates. She had lost many people in the course of her life, and this was just one more. Yet she still felt this loss, and was mildly surprised by that fact.
Archibald had changed something in her. She realized that she never wanted to fight in the war, for either side. The Decepticons had destroyed their world, killed most of her fellow femmes, and had kept none of the promises made for a better stronger world. They would watch the universe burn to get what they wanted, just like the combatants in the war that took Archibald's son away from him.
Archibald had taught her something important in the short time they knew each other. She looked human, she could vaguely act human, she could learn to like and accept humans, and she could make a new life for herself as a human. She didn't need the Decepticons anymore.
"Goodnight, Dr. Witwicky," Patsy whispered as her fingers slowly left the grave marker and she walked away toward her new life.
The End