So, raise your hand if you hate me. *Joins in with the lifted arms*. I don't blame ya. I practically disappear off the radar anytime I get so far into a story. I'm not going to get into some sob story of why I haven't updated. I will, however, inform you that I will probably never continue my other stories. Unless my muses pick back up. Which sounds pretty pathetic. I don't blame you guys if you've have or do give up on me. I deserve it. I'm not even sure why I try to post anything. It causes more harm than good. I apologize greatly for that. Anyways, here's another story. However long it'll last.
This is a Sidewipe/Sunstreaker/OC story by the way. Whenever the Pit that happens. If I even get that far.
NOTE: The first movie (and maybe the second) did happen. Mik and Sam aren't together. She falls for someone else. Sam is an aft as usual. Kae and K have aged (in their lower twenties) but base is pretty much the same. Though, they've grown tremendously. Oh, and Jazz is online. AND there are a lot of 'bots that've arrived.
Warnings: This is an admittedly dark story. It isn't filled with sunshine and rainbows. Beware of reading this. NOT for the faint of heart or sensitive.
Chapter 1
This is not an understood tale. And will never be. It's not filled with sunshine and happiness. Good and hope. It tells the truth about life. Explains what can happen to someone. This is the horror that is Her life. One made of a foundation of tragedy with few supports of love or personal enjoyment.
A year. That first taste of the world outside her encasement of the last nine months. The shining pierce of her established freedom. Shrieking. Cold, gloved fingers. A soft, oh-so-soft, material being wrapped around her. The croon of the nurse holding her.
''Get that thing away from me!'' Her mothers' voice- the screech she'd grown uccustomed to over time- snarled. Even in the first few seconds of her true existence. Always bitterly. Never loving.
''But, Ms. Aurcroft (Are-craw-ft)...'' The nurse spoke. Voice soft, pleading.
''No!'' Her birth reason had snarled. The same one which had plagued her through the years. ''Throw it out! Toss it to the curb! JUST GET IT AWAY FROM ME!''
A grief ridden sob, laced with a single tear, was the woman holding hers response, the scatter of frenzied feet accompanying the scrub-clad woman as she'd fled, bursting through the halls with her still cradled to her chest as she lumbers towards a yammering doctor cheesing down the hall with a RN.
''Dr. Nutrelaus (New-trell-aw-s)! Dr. Nutrelaus!'' Had been his hysterical attention-grabber. Albeit reluctantly in his case.
''What?'' Was his snapped sneer, tone harboring a false sense of patience. Even if it's towards his fiancé.
Puffs of near-tangible, billowing air flees the nurses chapped lips as she skids to a screeching halt, chest rising and falling heavily beneath her newborn head. Still streaked with fluids as it is.
''The mother did not want her child!'' She'd wheezed.
''Who?'' The doctor had narrowed his dark gaze.
''Ms. Aurcroft!''
''Hmm.'' He'd regarded the both of them with a jaded carelessness. The other woman beside him shifted impatiently, a scowl marring her plastic features.
''Do whatever.'' He'd finally waved a hand in dismissal. ''Just keep it out of my sight.'' He'd turned back to his and the unknown womans' former conversation. Her shooting the nurse a smug look.
Grief-stricken eyes had then locked onto her own wide ones, tears spilling from their corners to mingle with her pink blanket.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Time flew by at a crawl through the years. Foster home to foster home to foster home to foster home until she could barely manage to keep them straight. All holding a fake promise of 'love' and 'affection' time and time again. Yet, the overseer of her stays, Karthy Monglet (m-on-glet), kept that optimistic certainty until the very day she took matters into her own hands. And probably even afterwards. She never seemed fully there to begin with anyways.
The first couple years of her life were probably the 'easiest' overall. Compared to everything following that is. She'd managed to stay in but two or three homes during that time. Babies/toddlers were in high demand, afterall. That is, until the day she turned three. Comely (comm-ly) and Dalvid (dal-vid) Sharklary (shark-lry)- whom had been her guardians at the time- had finally gotten sick of taking care of a growing girl- since she wasn't an infant anymore and incapable of 'causing problems'. And thus decided to send her off to the next unfortunate soul.
Which led to another four houses. All only lasting three to five months, before she was tossed back into the sea of candidates. Though, the fifth- when she was nearly four- stay was probably the longest she'd ever had. And the most beneficial.
The man was a retired sergeant with sharp eyes demanding the utmost respect. With a stiff stature that made him tower over her even more so with his 6'5 height. He didn't seem the type to wish to harbor any children,- what with his personality and intimidating age of sixty four- but he turned out to be one of the most suited she'd endured. Over the eight months he'd took her in,- 'raising' her- he showed just why he'd held such a high rank those current several years ago. The way he kept a calm aura about him even when frustrated with her non-existent combat skills. Or when he'd patiently show her how to correct her form and present a strength she didn't quite possess at her lack of age. His training didn't last, however, whenever the system found out that he was teaching a toddler to defend herself. She'd then been thrust back into the maelstrom.
She kept herself occupied through the tide of houses for the next eight years. Practicing all the different forms the soldier- Payne Malestro (mal-eh-stro)- had taught her. Teaching herself how to act out- which she practically never did- against others' ill intentions. And eventually gaining herself a reputation. Though that wasn't until a few years later.
By her thirteenth birthday,- and the latest relocation- she'd met the very first person she could ever call a friend and a new torturer. The former being a girl only six days older than her with brilliant inky black locks and bright blue eyes. Holding the name of Mikaela Banes. And the latter the newest home she'd been shoved into. One of the worst she'll forever be plagued by.
They both went to the same school- Tranquility Middle (7th grade)- and lived only about a block away from one another. Thus, why she was able to ride and walk over there on a daily basis, her dad- Charlie Banes- not minding in the least. That was also where her love of vehicles came into being.
Charlie was- and still is- a mechanic in his own shop: Banes' Car and Care. There, he showed her how to tell the difference between different parts and engines, tear them apart, put them back together and just how to be able to be her own mechanic.
Though, Mik and her time together began to dwindle over the years. The homes she was being thrust into proving to be quite harsh and unforgiving. Leaving her with varied little time to spend with the small family she'd grown close to. That wasn't to say that their closeness tapered off though. Far from it in through the beatings, moving and lack of care from all but Mikaela and Charlie, she remained loyal to a fault and vise versa.
That is, until the day she finally grew tired of it all. The pain- not that she felt it physically, having been numbed long long long ago. The abuse. The breakdowns. Everything. Except that small, broken yet still intact, family.
All the money she'd gathered over the years from numerous jobs- odd or no- was combined into one surprisingly sizeable chunk. The plan that she'd been slaving over in the notebook Payne gave her all those years ago. The grief of possibly leaving the two that'd wound their way into her heart- even if one of them landed in jail. Everything was put into action.
The day she turned fifteen was the same one that the newspapers were filled with the image of a dilapidated building. One which had 'mysteriously' caught flame in the dead hours of the moons' limited light. Inside holding a fostered teenager who was caught in the heat. That was at the exact time that she was fleeing through the streets. Her school bag crammed full of anything but what the name entails, instead holding the meager possessions she owns.
The streets had been mostly bare at the time. Besides the thick bullets of H2O sweeping over the area, seeping into the cracked roads that'd she'd had to practically wade through to reach her determined destination: Mikaela and Charlie's home.
She hadn't even realized she'd already keyed in until gentle, always painfully so, fingers had guided her towards the blackettes room at the back of the plain house. And it was only then- as she snapped out of whatever trance had wound itself around her consciousness- that she'd pulled herself carefully out of that hold. Blazing blues had locked onto her in confusion.
''Mik, come with me. Please.'' She'd grasped onto the dark sleeves of whatever the blackette was wearing at the time. A t-shirt if she recalls correctly.
A deep pain had filled that gaze. Of which still haunts her to this very day.
''I can't.'' Mik had choked out, nearly sobbing. ''With the house and the garage, dad...''
''Shh.'' She'd pulled her in close, allowing her to rest her head in the area between her chest and shoulder as sobs racked the blackettes frame. Offering the only comfort she could. ''I know. I shouldn't've asked.''
''Yes you should've!'' Mik'd wailed near hysterically, clutching to her like a lifeline. ''You should've left. I should be able to go with you. We should be able to stay together. Dad should be here...!''
. Calm, li'l Mikki. I'm here. I won't leave../ She'd switched to the connection they share. One that only the two of them know about- minus a select few others- and only marginally understand.
./But, but.../.
get it out. Let it all out.../
She can still remember that evening as if it'd happened mere moments ago. Mikaela's vulnerable state. Tears. Sobs. Oh, the soul crushing sobs.
Yet, she'd still had to- eventually- flee. As much as it crushed her. Though, not without a parting gift to her best friend.
After that, the money she'd gathered was put to good use. And- between the aid of her one true guardian and his mates- the house she still occupies to this very day was made a reality. Standing at a monstrous thirty feet tall with black and white the only color sticking out amongst the greens and browns of the deserted, twenty five acre landscape of her shared property.
It was there- with the three others who'd been witness into her life- that she truly lived. Where she was able to shove the countless homes she'd been thrust into away. The pain. The grief. The heart ache. The indifference.
Though, she never forgot, nor was she able to, she lived on. If not for herself, then the five who truly give a dang.
That was before she met them. Though, that didn't happen for a long while. When Mik and she had aged slightly, experiencing difficulties and more heartbreak, and Charlie had grown older. Gaining gray tints that Mikki and she still teased him over.