I am sorry. This is long overdue, and I don't have much written for either this or my rewrite of its prequel. But it is a start, I think, and now that I have a start I can build some sort of momentum. As a warning, I am also in college, writing four other stories that I actively wish to update (Buryu Yokai, The Holmes Vortex, Water: Falling, and rewriting Herald, Host), and planning my wedding. Updates will not come quickly.

On the bright side, there is finally progress. I confess I had put this by the wayside, so I still need to figure out how this thing resolves, but I have the basic idea in my head. So sit back, and enjoy the ride. :-)

This story is set immediately after Herald, Host, which takes place one year after the 2007 movie. To understand what is going on here, you will likely need to read the previous story. All original characters and cover names for the Autobots are my own, Autobots and associated Transformers canon characters are owned by Hasbro.

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Transformers:

Keres

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Book Two of the

Ghost Chronicles

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By Falcon's Hyperdrive

Officially begun Spring 2015

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Prologue

"Hello, little Katherine. Or should I call you little Ghostie?"

"Who the hell are you?"

Keres. Slime and terror, a black sludge that smeared itself on her life.

"You'll do it, or I'll personally break every bone in your body."

"No. No, I won't. I won't do it."

Pain. Oh, God, make it stop, makeitstop makeitstopstopstopstop—

Blue eyes. Blue, bluer than the sky that held the sun and carried puffy clouds in its strong embrace. Shining—worried, sharp and alert and watching her as if she was a ghost, for all that she had appeared from the undergrowth. "Where'd you come from?"

And peace. Blissful rest—safety. She was alive, and she was free, and she was protected. They were protected, she and Vor. She could eat—albeit a restricted diet yet due to her starvation at the hands of Keres. But she was fed and watered and clean and warm and rested and safe.

And then the nightmares, dark shadows of the past which Vor had locked way, leaking back now into her memories. "Katherine, you asked me, in the same hour in which I revealed myself to you, to help you bury your memories about those days. 'Help me forget,' you said. I did it, thinking it would help you. For a while, it did, but now I see it's done more harm than good."

"What are you saying?"

"Face your fears, Katherine Donnelly. Only then may you overcome them."

And then the Autobots. They were real, not just a movie. They were real, and Jack was Jazz, and the others were horrible at coming up with names that didn't sound like their own. But she had the All Spark in her head, too, and had all along. Vor had always been there for her, throughout each of her kidnappings, and now she knew why.

"Ghost? You're Ghost? Prodigy of Phantom, super-secret hacker for the NSA? That Ghost? Maggie, I know you've heard of her—she's almost a legend!"

"All this time, I should have known it. How did I not see this? His face— Keagan… Jazz, I watched him die!"

"She never got to hold her children. Not like we do. She could hold their energy in her own, wrap them in warmth and love… But she never knew what it was like to touch her children, to shelter an infant in her arms."

"If you can give life to a computer, Katherine, and make a sparkling, you can be sure that you can recharge the tactician and boost his repair systems. Place your hands on his hood, and let me work."

Terror, panic, desperation— "Scream, and you die." —Keres. "You think you're so clever, don't you?"

Almost escape, and then— "Katherine, that's no human! It's a holoform, and he's no Autobot or Neutral, either."

"Understand this. You are a hostage, and your life is not your own. Cooperate, and things will go better for you. But if your Autobot friends do not give us the All Spark, then your life is over."

Then a blade appeared out of nowhere, burying itself in the chassis of the Decepticon charged with keeping an eye on her and her sparkling. Mirage, newly arrived and the perfect mech for the job, with his electromagnetic disruptor. And Jazz— He was dying, and only she could save him.

"I am the All Spark, you glitched bag of bolts!"

And her plan— It worked. Somehow, impossibly, it worked. It was terrifying how easy it was to overcharge Blastbeat's spark, to destroy him with the power he desperately craved. Well, she was desperate, too, and both Kate and Vor were willing to do anything to see Jazz safe. So flowed the white river, and the last thing she saw then was that stream of energy.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Five days, four hours, thirty-two minutes, and fourteen seconds—give or take a few nanoklicks."

But they all could have died. If she'd failed, if any one of them had been a breem slower, they could have all been dead.

Vor's voice entered her racing thoughts, soothing the frenzied streams. What's done is done, Katherine, and you were not too slow. Samuel was not too slow in destroying Megatron with my power, you were not too slow in stopping Jazz on the road, Mirage was not too slow in getting us out of that cage, you were not too slow in saving Jazz, Ironhide was not too slow in catching you. You were not too slow. You did not fail, and none of you are dead.

Her turmoil calmed, slowed. They had done it. Merciful wonders, they had done it. And she, memories restored and clearance given, was going home. The dreams vanished, and the All Spark sang her back to to restful sleep.

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Chapter One: Return

It was music that woke her, classic rock from the sounds the radio was giving off. The volume was low, but then it gradually got louder as if trying to rouse her gently. The song ended, a new one started, and a voice began humming along. Curled up in the passenger seat of the living silver hardtop Pontiac Solstice, Katherine Donnelly absorbed a few more bars of "Rooftops" before opening her eyes to watch her friend bobbing his head to the beat.

With a groggy yawn, Kate stretched and smiled as the seat back rose, helping her to wake up further. "Thanks, Jazz," she told the man driving. He turned light blue eyes on her, such a stark contrast to his dark brown skin that it had once made her wonder if he was wearing contacts. As it later turned out, he just preferred the blue eyes of his true form and considered brown to be too close to red for comfort.

"Not a problem, kiddo," he answered her, grinning back. "Have a good rest?"

"Yup. After the first while, Vor didn't even need to block out any dreams for me. Which is surprising, given how many nerves I have at coming back here."

Jazz blinked at her in confusion. "What does the number of nerves have to do with it?"

To that, Kate let out a giggle. She had forgotten for a moment how alien her friend actually was. The holoform Jazz had activated in his driver seat was truly lifelike, and when it was interacting with her it was easy to forget that Jazz was, in reality, an Autobot, a giant mech from the planet Cybertron. And he was one of the small ones, too, given his stature compared to Ironhide and Optimus Prime. On Optimus, she didn't even come up halfway to his knee; Jazz, at least, was short enough for her to reach his. "It's just an expression," she explained. "I was just trying to say that I'm really nervous. Like, uhh…the nerves in my stomach are misfiring, but not."

"You feel jittery, slightly nauseous," the mech clarified.

"Right, exactly. It's like I'm coming out of a dream and I want to make sure if it's real or not."

"It's real, kiddo." Jazz smiled his assurance at her. "You're almost home."

She breathed deep, closing her eyes as she let out her air in a heavy gust. "Home," she whispered, and smiled, remembering a crazy dream from days ago where she stood in the place of Dorothy Gale. Where Megatron was the Wicked Witch of the West, and Ironhide, probably because of those mental associations with the tooth fairy, was Glinda. "Guess I have ruby slippers, after all."

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The house was white, a remodeled single-story ranch-style originally built in the '70s, sporting dark green shutters and doors and a charcoal grey shingled roof. An attached side garage typical of the architecture was closed up, hiding whether anyone was home or not, but the curtains in the front bay window were pulled open and a squad car listing itself as belonging to the Doverville Police was parked in the gradually inclined double-wide driveway. Her security conscious aunt used to always close those curtains when they were gone, to discourage any burglary attempts, and if they were open then it probably meant that she was home, car parked in the closed garage.

Jazz made a noise beside her, echoed by a trill from her little sparkling, Clap, whom she had brought to life through the laptop she carried everywhere and the All Spark she played host to—Vor, originally her "Voice of Reason" that turned out to be more than just a voice in her head."That's it?" he asked.

"That's home," Kate confirmed, watching the house grow larger as Jazz approached it. He pulled into the driveway next to the blue and white Charger and cut the sound of the engine off, and Kate stared forward at the dark green wood she had helped her brother paint. It seemed like a lifetime ago, rather than just a few years, and it took Jazz placing his holoform's hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, to wake her from her reverie.

"You can do this," he reassured her quietly. He didn't offer to bring her back later, though she knew he would if she asked, but pushed her to do what they both knew needed to be done with the unspoken promise that he would be right there beside her. In answer, she smiled gratefully at him and looked down at the little silver bot leaning against her knees.

"Time to transform, sweetie," she told the little sparkling, an apology in her eyes. He chirped an acknowledgement and shifted seamlessly into the silver MacBook her brother had given her, and she tucked him carefully into the dark blue messenger bag at her feet. It had actually been Sam's, used for his homework, but with her plans to return to Ohio he was quite willing to give it up, since her old backpack had been destroyed in Clap's endeavor to free her from that closet her kidnappers had stuffed her in.

And that feels like forever ago now, she reflected as she passed the bag to Jazz and reached for the door handle. Jazz made a show of getting out of his side, and for a moment it amazed her that not three weeks ago she still thought he was just human.

No one's just human, Vor told her with a fond mental embrace. Least of all, you.

Kate smiled gratefully and rounded the Pontiac with careful, deliberate steps. Her friend was eyeing the Charger when she came up next to him, and she almost would have suspected it to be Prowl, who had arrived ahead of them, if it hadn't been for the fact that she sensed nothing from it. Through Vor, she was able to feel the sparks of the Cybertronians around her, and this was not one of them.

Jazz's holoform shrugged its shoulders when he met her questioning glance. Later, he mouthed, and then Kate remembered that cop cars had cameras and recording equipment installed. She wasn't sure if it would catch their voices or not, but it was wise not to take a chance. Whatever it was Jazz was thinking, it would have to be handled without her knowledge, because "later" was not going to be easy with what was coming for her. She had not seen her aunt in months, now, and she was willing to let her friends handle security while she took her life back. She had, Kate thought with a hard lump in her throat, been gone too long.

The hand on her left shoulder was bolstering, as were Vor's quiet whispers in the back of her mind, and she breathed deeply before stepping forwards again. She remembered the day she left so clearly, saying to her aunt that she'd see her later, that she'd just be going over to Gene's for the afternoon and she'd be back for dinner. Had it been like that for the Kate she swapped with? Multiple dimensions were a beast on a good day, and she hoped that the Katherine Donnelly she and Vor had swapped back with wasn't experiencing issues like this. Chances were, she didn't even realize the switch had happened…

They had reached the door without her quite realizing it, and Kate found herself stepping back in shock and not a little bit of nausea. "I can't—"

"You can," Jazz interrupted, grip firming. "Look at me?"

She turned, looking up into those nearly glowing blue eyes. He smiled down at her, and that expression worked together with Vor's soothing presence to calm her stomach and keep her straight on her feet. "There's nothing to be afraid of," Jazz reminded her. "Your aunt loves you, and she's missed you very much. She's probably terrified of what might have happened to you. I don't know of many fates worse than not knowing. And you've missed her, I know it. And you're home. So you can do this."

Kate let out all her air in a rush and leaned forward to wrap her arms around him. "Thank you, Jazz," she told him, voice muffled in his shoulder. "Will you stay with me?"

"A rampaging gestalt couldn't tear me away," he promised. She laughed at the image, and finally turned back to the door. The doorbell looked like it still worked, so she pressed it, and pretty soon after there were footsteps approaching from inside. They weren't her aunt's, so she guessed maybe it was the police officer, and as the door swung open she looked up into the familiar face of Officer Clifford Daniels. His jaw hung open, brown eyes wide, and his nostrils flared as he sucked in a breath.

"Kate?" he asked, voice quiet. She nodded, biting hard on her lower lip, and he pulled her into a tight hug. "You're alive. Oh, thank God, you're alive."

She returned the hug as best she could. "Aunt Jess?"

"Living room. She's not going to believe—" He pulled back, holding her by the shoulders as he traced wary eyes over her form, looking for injuries. She let him, figuring it was easiest just to have him ease his worry, though any new scars were hidden at the moment. Maybe that was for the best.

He seemed surprised by how well she looked after being gone, kidnapped for all he knew, for several months. There were still some lingering issues Ratchet had given strict instruction on, but for the most part she was actually doing quite well for what she had gone through. "Doc already checked me out," she assured the fretting man. He hadn't been the detective assigned to her case, but he was the protection detail last time she had been home, and had usually been present in any discussions, as well. If she remembered right, she had even requested it the second or third time the detectives came to ask her questions.

Daniels nodded, his eyes flicking to look at the man standing a bit behind her. "Lieutenant Jack Turner, US Army," Jazz introduced himself, sticking to the cover story they had set for those without the clearance to know the truth. Aunt Jessica would be on that list soon, hopefully, as well as Gene and Daniels both.

"He's my friend," Kate explained. "And my protector, um, bodyguard." The officer looked skeptical, but she shook her head. "You and Aunt Jess will get the whole story after I see her."

"Of course," Daniels said, as if realizing only just then what he was keeping her from. He stepped aside, letting them both in, and Kate followed the memory of steps to the living room. She stopped in the doorway, hovering, and stared at the brown-haired woman on the couch. She looked…tired, worn, sad. There were new wrinkles in her face, and her shoulders sagged with a heavy weight on them. And she was beautiful, never more so than now.

She was looking down at a photo frame held tight in fragile hands, probably the picture of the two of them and Keagan together, before he was deployed. The frame looked like the one they had chosen together, a warm, rich brown that set off Keagan's blonde hair and his near blinding grin as he faced the camera, arms slung around "his ladies'" shoulders. "Come on, Gene, snap a picture! Before Kit-Kat tickles me to death!"

"Who was at the door?" Her aunt called her back to the present, voice cracking as she spoke. The rawness of it made Kate's heart clench painfully, and she made a false start forward that stopped in a moment of shame. Aunt Jess looked up, going to speak again, and her face went pale, broken hope mending together in pale blue irises as she stared and gasped. "Katie?"

"Hey." Her own voice sounded like a clogged pipe, and she cleared it. "I'm home."

Aunt Jess made to get up, but Kate found herself next to the woman before she knew what had happened, arms pulling her close in a mutual embrace that seemed to reflect just how terrified each were that the other would disappear suddenly. "You're home," her aunt's voice repeated over and over, like the words themselves were necessary to convince her because she couldn't trust what her senses were telling her. "You're home."

"I'm home," Kate agreed, crying now. "I'm safe, and I'm here now. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Her aunt's arms tightened around her, which she hadn't realized was possible. "Don't. Don't apologize. It's okay, you're okay. Everything— Everything is okay."

It wasn't, but, sitting here in her aunt's arms that once protected her from storms and nightmares, wrapped in Vor's warm energy, it certainly felt like it was.

[posted 3-28-15]