Disclaimer:

Rights to Transformers belong to Hashbro and Micheal Bay. Evelyne is mine to keep.

A Quick Note:

Dear Readers,

Thanks for giving my story a shot. It has been awhile since I have written anything but this story had been in my mind for almost a year just begging to be written. With the support of my wonderful friends, I finally have the courage to pick up the pen once more (or in this case, boot up my laptop).

This story will be based mostly from the Micheal Bay films roughly a few years after Revenge of the Fallen. For now, I don't believe the story will lead to the third film. It will also be based a lot from the G1 universe cause I love a lot of the characters from that series.

Last thing of course is that this story is a Prowl/OC fic but it will be a slow-build cause I really believe that relationships, especially romantic ones need time to develop especially when you have a character as emotionally constipated as Prowl and Evelyne has her own issues to work out first as well. But sparks are sure to develop and I hope to do the characters justice.

So without further delay. Please enjoy!


Prologue:

Evelyne stared up at the darkness blankly, wondering if she had passed out. Oddly enough, she couldn't really remember if she had or not. There was a gap in her memory that she could not recall. However, for some twisted reason, the period before and after that blank remained with her with stunning clarity. That and the pain radiating through her body were amongst the first things which screamed for her attention.

"You have some damn nerve coming back here like this!"

She shut her eyes trying to get the voices in her head to stop. She wanted to cover her ears in an attempt to block out the noises but her left arm protested too much to let her do so. It was probably broken. That would make sense.

"You fucking traitor!"

She probably deserved that accusation though the words had not stunned any less.

"You think you can just leave us just like that?!"

She laughed…or tried to before choking in her own blood that was building inside her mouth. The salty metallic taste was familiar and bitter. It was like swallowing pride or choking on her own failure. She hated it.

Yeah, she really had thought she could leave just like that. Or at least run and never come back. And yet, here she was, back to this little quiet neighborhood of her youth. Back to where all her bitter memories had spawned from. It seemed fitting that everything should end here.

Her face felt wet. Was she actually crying?

She opened her eyes meeting the darkness once again. Despite her senses being dulled by pain radiating through her body, she could still smell the wet pavement and hear the light splatter of rain. The cold droplets were uncaring of where it was landing, whether it being the ground, the roofs, the metal railing or her broken body.

So it was raining. She hadn't been crying. She wasn't surprised. A bit disappointed, but not surprised. She could not remember the last time she had cried. Yes, raining made more sense. It always rained excessively around this time of year.

She wouldn't cry. Not for herself. She would not have deserved it.

If she were to die now at this moment she would probably deserve it. Hell, if anything she should have died five years ago. It would seem only right that she should return all those few stolen years that had been almost peaceful compared to the earlier times of her adolescence. Would she have regrets? Yes, but that mattered very little now. After all, death waited for no one.

And death was a huge possibility right now. She was not arrogant to say she was too young to die. Death was non-discriminative of gender, race, social status or age. If she did not pass out and die from the blood lost, she was going to choke in her own vomit and blood. Even if that miraculously did not kill her, hypothermia was going to finish the job. There was no one around to help her and she had lost the ability to call or reach out for help. She was slowly losing sensations to her limbs. At least the pain was starting to fade too.

She was going to die here in this dark alley behind some unknown building. Nobody was going to find her cold dead body until many hours or even days later. The local news may bother to mention her death. A tragic story about a young woman who didn't even make it into her mid-twenties and was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time, beaten to death by people suspected to be drunk.

God, how cliché.

On the other hand, investigators may find the connection to her sketchy past if they were smart enough. If they did, the news may reveal a different story. A story of how a young delinquent was involved in one of those many violent gang fights and never came out of it alive. One bad decision too many. At least, that would be the story revealed to the public. People would hear it shaking their head, saying something like "So young, such a waste. Could have made something of herself" and then go on with their daily lives.

It did not matter that she had left that violent past years ago. It did not matter that she had been trying to make a better life for herself. It just did not matter to anyone nor did it matter to her anymore. She had been running and fate had a way of catching up to those who run. She had made mistakes and it was time to pay up.

Karma was such a bitch.

But when it came down to it, everything up to this moment had been of her own doing. It was that one phrase that kept repeating itself almost drowning out all those other vicious remarks attacking her mind. They were the last words whispered in her head before she passed out again from the cold and blood lost.

"You got what you deserved."


Author's Notes:

Thank you for reading. Please review as it is always great motivation. Constructive reviews are welcome. Flames will be ignored. Till next time!