Helicopters whirred over the quiet countryside, spotlights roaming the tall grass for their target. The trees bent with protest at the high velocity of the wind the helicopter threw at them, trying their best not to break under the pressure. Hope was being prayed to Primus to not give him away, the battle worn semi-truck with the blue and red flamed paint job. There laid our once proud and kind leader of the Autobots, Optimus Prime.

He stayed in his alt. mode, waiting for the army to call off their search as the trees and dark brush kept him covered from the forming rain. A few drops landed on his windshield, jolting from the cold precipitation. It had been at least a few years when the Battle of Chicago destroyed a good chunk of the population; now a city blocked off as a memorial. It wasn't specifically the Autobot's fault for having a massacre on their hands but thinking about it made Optimus's spark hurt to the point of extinguishing itself. All those innocent lives lost because of them, for leaving instead of rebelling against the world's order to shoot them into space.

The Decepticon's had the same issue; yet they functioned as any normal Cybertronian trying to hide in plain sight. They took on the normal civilian car function, making it harder to distinguish them if they were happening to be in rush hour traffic. Optimus had kept his optics peeled for Decepticon threats only to bring back the fruit of failure with a once in a while chase from the military. None the less he continued his pursuit in hopes that one day, the humans could form another alliance to bring back a golden age of peace throughout the galaxy.

A tree branch snapped and immediately Optimus turned on his sonar, the red dots forming close by. All he could do was stay still and hope against hope that the military didn't stumble upon him.

The night was slowly turning into a dull rainy day, the military with their Black Ops slowly stalking the perimeters of the last known energon reading they picked up. Why the leader of the Autobots came to this plain, flat state was currently unknown. The leader of this group, a tall thin man named Malcolm stared into the distance where he could see a forest line mashing into the corn fields with a little farm on the side of the heavily abandoned road. His sun glasses glimmered with stern, his suit fluttering at the wind of the helicopter, flying towards their boss.

Men were spread thin and eventually grouped up as they took the search by foot, the helicopter landing behind Malcolm. A man stepped out, big and intimidating, his dark skin making him look more like a shadow than a person.

"Sir, the target has not been located."

"Keep searching," Malcolm called over the sounds of the slowing propellers, "he has to be here. I can feel it."

"Yes sir." It was a dull reply but what else could he do? The president ordered them to get rid of the Autobots and the Decepticons, the enemies of Earth. With a wave of his finger, the helicopter took off without him, the man advancing to his boss.

"This is beautiful, plain but beautiful." Malcolm turned on his foot, polished black shoes now stained with dirt.

"I don't pay you to stand around and do nothing!"

"Sir, I'm merely doing surveillance and also my other job." Swinging a sniper off his back, the rifle being planted into the ground so when the time comes to snipe the alien bastard, he could pivot at any angle necessary. Malcolm wasn't impressed to say the least, seeing plenty of snipers in his time for a fifty year old man. He walked behind the man observing the African American load the rifle with a strip of casings and bullets. Raising an eyebrow Malcolm asked, "What's your name?"

"I am Nigel."

"Nigel?"

"Yes it doesn't fit my race but I do not mind. I'm just here serving for my country."

Dismissing the statement with a nod, Malcolm noted that the scenery has changed now the farm house's barn looking like an easy place for a Transformer to hide in. He turned on his radio, hoping his intuition from Iraq has finally paid off.

Optimus held in his breath as the red dots got closer to his position, holding himself as still as he could not to alert them to his imminent presence.

"What do you think would happen if we shot out his windshields?"

"We'd just piss him off. After all he's the leader not the soldier who serves under him."

Just a few more steps…

The radio crackled to life close by, the chilled voice filling the radio.

:Go towards the barn. Over.:

"Why sir?"

:Target could possibly be using the barn as shelter.:

"But sir, we saw the alien come in here! Over."

:You will follow orders to the letter now come to the barn. Over.:

The radio was filled with a soothing static, Optimus holding his breath for hope that he indeed was free.

"Come on Jack, we better go."

"Dumbass." The feet became fainter as they ran out of the forest with not much grace, snapping branches and their zippers chiming to the beat of their pace. Letting out a sigh, Optimus eased himself out of the tension, screeching metal and expanding plastic crackling through the forest.

"Finally, they are gone." Transforming, Optimus surveyed himself for damage, imagining how pissed Ratchet would be if he was here to see his condition. Bullet holes riddled his form with huge shells clanging around in his systems, making it rather uncomfortable to shift or move; his tires were blown out with some spikes poking out; his windows were cracked; and holding out his arm, his weapons were unfortunately damaged making him vulnerable to rogue attacks whether inflicted by the humans or the Decepticons.

"Where did everything go wrong?" he asked himself, trying to find an answer in his processor. The only clear answer was Chicago. He checked his HUD and wasn't startled by the date blinking in a blue color.

June 12, 2015.

A weak smile came on his faceplates. Today was the anniversary of the attack on Chicago and according to the school calendars he strayed on during his search for Sam Witwicky, this was the first day of summer where human children are released from their studies for at least three months.

They get to enjoy no worries unlike him who has to worry about the government hunting him down. For once he was the prey, not the hunter. Looking past the trees, he saw them advance on a farm house and quietly transformed, heading down this rocky road of rocks that hit his windshield wit cracks forming. Nice and quiet for once in his hell of a life.

Quite an abrupt ending but I couldn't see how I could end it nicely to say the least. Please R&R, I know this isn't going to tie in with the movie coming out June 27 (by the way so happy! XD XD XD) I want to take a crack at it before I see the new movie. My OC's will be in here so no flames please! Love from The Cherryblossom Tree