Author note: This is a story that has been developing over the years. I've had notes here and there and finally have decided to put them all together. I aim to build good OCs as well as try to stay as close to the Transformers lore as possible. There will be a mix between Comics, Cartoons (TV Series) as well as the movies, so please understand that it is not a purist writing.
I am by no means an accomplished writer. I write for pleasure, I write because the story just begs to come out and it keeps playing in my mind until I lay it on paper. Also this is an MA story. Please keep that in mind.
The Story will follow the path of Vanessa as she experiences a wide range of life altering events, ranging from a steep descent to madness, her partial recovery, the discovery of love and the realization of what must be given up in order to secure it.
Lights, bright lights, one after another cycled overhead. Ears were ringing and everything hurt. Shadows, more lights, maybe people, maybe angels, demons, everything crowding and crawling in front of half closed, dirt clogged and blood shot eyes. There was no way to describe how every limb felt. Solid led would have been lighter and easier to move than one little finger. And the chest, the stomach, the pain was so deep, so sharp and tangible that she thought someone was cutting her open right then and there. There was blood everywhere - on her clothes, on her face, the metallic taste so very predominant in her mouth that if she could, she would have gagged. She had to have been bleeding profusely. That familiar warmth washed over her followed by spells of acute cold and chills that shook her to the core.
"I'm dying…" she thought.
Darkness settled in and the pain… well it just disappeared.
Doctors rushed in and out of rooms like swarms of bees in and out of a colony. They hurried along, triaging patients as they went, running from surgery to surgery, getting people stable before moving on to the next desperate soul that was clinging to life without much hope. Death filled the air and mixed with the stench of smoke, gunpowder and dust. This was war. Maybe it was won for now, or maybe it was just a moment's breath before all Hell would break loose on this pathetic little rock called Earth.
Many weeks, months even would pass as this city would rebuilt itself, just like any other damaged by the rage of the Decepticons fighting over the AllSpark.
And so those months did pass, with people putting their lives back together, governments scrambling to get policies and procedures in place that would actually assist them when the fight would return. It was not a matter of IF, but a matter of WHEN. And so, N.E.S.T (Non- Biological Extraterrestrial Species Treaty) was put in place, and the remainder of the Autobots lined their forces with world governments to assist in defending their new home, our home.
For one man however, time seemed to stand still. Connor Bradly barely had left the side of his fiancé's bed through the weeks that followed the incident in center city. As a result, she had been placed in a medicated coma to assist her body to recover from the sustained injuries. He was fortunate to work with her inside the Information Operations Center Analysis Group within the CIA. As a result, everyone there knew their involvement in the war that had subsided. Not one person expected him to be anywhere else, not after what had happened. He continued to provide any Intel he could to N.E.S.T as the weeks passed, but his main focus was her, and he didn't make that a secret.
His hands came together to rub his tired face, and he felt the scrape of his 3 day old stubble, which was threatening to turn more and more into a beard. It wasn't that he did not care for his appearance, because he most definitely did, but right now, it felt as if leaving her was a crime, and as such, everything else, including his own wellbeing, came second. His piercing green eyes glanced over her frame, so small and fragile, chest slowly rising and falling not by any will of its own, but by the machines keeping her alive. It had been 3 weeks, 3 weeks of pure agony for the man who watched his heart wither away in a hospital bed. That delicious black silky hair had lost its shine, her skin had turned a cold, pale white, her face drained of color and life.
BEEP BEEP BEEP! The monitor screamed and startled him. Connor jumped up from his seat, pain shooting through his legs from not having moved in so long.
"NURSE!" he screamed as loudly as he could before leaning in close to her " Come on Nessa…come back to me" he whispered as the nurse rushed in the room and almost pushed him out of the way.
"She's doing it again" said the woman with a concerned look on her face.
"Again ?" asked the doctor who followed her in. " Don't increase the drug dosage. Hook up the sensors. I want to look at her brain activity. Something, something is trying to wake her up, almost rejecting the meds" said the older man, Doctor Stevenson.
"Do you think is the shrapnel in her body?" Connor asked in a faint whisper, before slouching back down in the uncomfortable hospital arm chair that had served as his bed and Lazy Boy for the past few weeks.
"It could be anything" the doctor replied and assisted the nurse with the brain activity sensor placement " What ever is in her, is not of this world. We can't take it out, and we don't know what it does" he continued for the hundredth time. He knew Connor was just worried, and he would gladly remind the Special Agent of his fiancé's predicament as patiently as he could. Who wouldn't understand that pain?
Please review. This is really a story meant to bring some peace to my own mind. I appreciate you taking the time to give me your input. Please be polite and constructive. I will be ever grateful for that, and I want you to know that I feel humbled and incredibly fortunate to have any of you read my work.