A/N: I don't even know what this fic is, but I loved writing it. I also have a terrible habit of writing fics and then never posting them. I'm trying to break that habit. Also, I know the whole "Jack's dad is a jerk" is a common theme, but I thought it added an interesting tone/voice to the story. So, I kept it. Arcee comes in later. I don't kid about slow burns. R&R, please!
Disclaimer: I don't own.
Chapter One
Optimism is the foundation of courage.
~ Nicholas Murray Butler
When Jack was nine when his parents got a divorce. Dad got the house, the treehouse, and both cars. Mom got Jack. She got a lawyer, a court-enforced restraining order, and then transferred to a new ER in Jasper, Nevada. Jack turned ten, then eleven, and eventually ended up babysitting the neighborhood kids for extra money.
It wasn't a bad deal.
Raf was a quiet boy. Shy. He liked books, computers, and racecar games. Usually, Raf just hung out in the garage in the backseat of Jack's mom's crappy, secondhand Camaro, which was actually an alien robot from the planet Cybertron. Raf was so good at entertaining both himself and the Camaro that Jack rarely had to do any actual babysitting. In fact, unless Miko was around, he mostly just sat around the house texting girls he liked. Or he surfed the 'net for pictures of cool-looking motorcycles.
Today was different, though.
Today, they were going to the park to catch bumblebees. According to Raf, the Camaro was on a covert mission to learn more about Earth and its inhabitants. So Raf thought it would be a good idea to study Earth's most essential pollinator. The Camaro had even offered to give them a ride. Since Jack's mom usually carpooled with another nurse on Tuesdays, Jack thought it would be okay to go as long as they didn't get caught. The car obviously knew how to drive, and it was a 1970's make so technically, it was a legal adult (even if it did spend Saturday mornings in front of the TV).
Before they left the house, Jack made peanut butter and honey sandwiches. He grabbed himself a coke, a big bottle of ice water, and a Juicy Juice for Raf. Instead of taking two Fruit Rollups, he snatched the whole box; Mom was rarely home so she wouldn't notice anyway. Plus, Jack could always blame it on Miko, since she was always barging into the house uninvited.
The girl had just moved to Jasper from Tokyo with her parents. Jack babysat for her one time before she found out about the robot. Ever since then, she had taken it upon herself to tutor it in the ways of heavy metal. She had even written the robot its very own "theme" song. Titled, "Angry Bumblebee Car" which sounded cute, but actually involved fake blood and a lot of intense screaming. A few weeks ago, Jack had gotten into serious trouble when the police showed up about a noise complaint. Luckily, one of the police officers was a huge metal fan, and instead of taking them to jail, he helped Miko balance the sound system—after he called all of their parents.
"Miko's going to meet us at the park," Jack explained, zipping up the lunch box. "Did you find a jar?"
Raf nodded. Standing on his tip-toes, he pushed the jar onto the counter. Whereas Jack was taller than most of the boys in his grade, Rafael could barely see over the countertop. The jar almost tipped over the edge, but Jack caught it just in time, shoving it into the backpack with the lunch box.
"My dad helped me poke holes in the lid," Raf said. "So whatever we catch, it won't suffocate to death. We even put leaves and some sugar water in there."
"Cool."
Jack hated it when other kids talked about their dads. He especially didn't want to talk about his own, so he quickly changed the subject. "I've got my phone," he said, patting the lump in his back pocket to double check. "We've got plenty of water, and the booster seat is in the garage. Are you ready to go?"
Raf gave him a miserable look. "Do I really have to sit in a booster seat?"
"You have to. It's the law."
"But I'm six. Almost seven."
"Yeah, but you weigh next to nothing," Jack said logically. "If you don't like it, then start eating more." He paused, looking around. Then he snatched a loaf of bread out of the cupboard and pushed it into Raf's hands before heading to the garage. "Here."
As Jack turned his back, Raf made a face at the bread and put it back on the counter.
The Camaro was waiting for them in the garage. Its bright yellow paint was scratched all over, and there was a crack in the windshield, thin like a long thread of spider silk. Jack's mom hated driving the Camaro around town; she said it made them looked like they were living in the ghetto, and since Jasper was a small town, everyone noticed the car's scratched up paint. She had bought it when they first moved to Jasper, when they couldn't afford anything else. Eventually, she was going to sell it, which worried Jack because even though he didn't understand its strange beeping language, he felt a lot safer knowing that something bigger than Dad was living the garage.
The passenger door swung open with a series of cheerful bleeps. Whatever it said, it made Raf smile as he clambered into the backseat. Jack had already put the booster seat in the middle, knowing that if he didn't, Raf might 'accidentally' forget to do it himself.
"It's good to see you, too," Raf said, giving the back of the driver's seat a fond pat. "Did your boss like our report?"
The speakers quivered with a low whir.
Reaching for the seatbeltRaf's smile fell as the front seat adjusted itself back into place.
"Oh."
"What'd he say?" Jack asked, climbing in next. He still hadn't figured out how Raf was able to understand the car, although it was probably some , kind of alien Morse code or programming language.
"He said he appreciates the effort we put into the essay, but the reports we've been writing just aren't up to military standards, so he got into a lot of trouble for all the spelling errors."
"But I spell checked it and everything."
"They weren't impressed that we wrote about cartoons again, either."
Hearing that disappointed Jack because Saturday morning cartoons were an integral part of human culture. All kids watched cartoons. Jack's dad used to yell at him for it; he used to say that Jack was too damn old to care about kid shows. Maybe he was right. If nine was too old, then eleven was probably even worse. Still, Jack liked them, and he liked being able to talk to the other boys at school about the new episodes, so maybe he would stop when he was twelve.
Reaching up, Jack pushed the button clipped onto the front seat visor. The garage door trembled as the machines pulled it up, letting in a wave of heat. The air conditioning kicked on as soon the sunlight poured into the garage. Both boys smelled like sunscreen, but Jack had brought an extra bottle just in case. Summertime was so different from what he had grown up with. He had never had to wear sunscreen in April before moving to Jasper; he couldn't imagine braving the heat without it in June.
"Well," Jack told the car, buckling his seatbelt as it pulled out of the driveway. "I forgot to turn in my history textbook when school ended. You can borrow it if you want."
Raf raised an eyebrow. "You forgot your history textbook, too?"
It wasn't that Jack liked reading them. He was supposed to bring all of the books back on the last day of school, but the Camaro's curiosity about what lay beyond the garage door had finally gotten the better of it. It was all Jack could do to keep it from destroying the house. Jack missed the bus that day because he had to stay and clean up the kitchen, so even though the robot gave him an emergency ride to school, it wasn't exactly his fault for forgetting to turn in his textbooks.
"I'll give them back mom when registers me for school," he said after a minute, watching the other cars go by. There weren't many; Jasper was a small town. It had three stoplights, one public pool, a bowling alley, and about 4,000 residents. There was a bank, and a hospital, too, but the hospital was ancient and smelled weirder than most. Most patients who ended up in serious, life-threatening conditions were life-flighted to the city. That's what Jack's mom did for a living. She helped the surgeons stabilize patients so they could be transferred to a real trauma center. Jack's Dad used to say that she was only a nurse because she wasn't smart enough to be a real doctor; none of that was true. His mom was a hero. And nobody could change his mind.
After a few minutes of driving, they pulled into a mostly empty parking lot. The park itself was pretty small, with a few trees here and there, and a small playground. The lawn was thick and moist, with beds of daisies scattered all over, though it probably wouldn't stay like that for long. Last year, Jasper suffered an awful summer drought. The city banned excessive water use, which meant everyone had to stop watering their backyards. Doing so had turned the grass brown and crunchy, which robbed all the fun out of playing outside.
Before Jack could even unbuckle his seatbelt, the driver door flew open as Miko—appearing out of seemingly nowhere—leaped into the front seat. "Petal to the metal, Bee—we gotta blow this joint!"
Jack did a double take. "Bee?"
"Short for Bumblebee," Raf quipped. "It's his name."
Jack stared incredulously. "You named him? When did this happen?"
Miko smiled wickedly. "It was Raf's idea. My song inspired him."
"But it, he, the car—it's the exact opposite of angry!"
"Who cares? We gotta go!" Sliding down into the driver's seat, Miko pointed in the direction of a pleasant-looking Japanese couple. "Look! Bad guys!"
"Miko," Raf said, confused. "Those are your parents."
"Yeah," Jack said, "what gives?"
"They said I have to clean my room when I get home. Come on, Bee, you're my getaway car. Let's go."
"He's not your getaway car," Jack protested, ducking down. "What are you going to do all summer if you're grounded all the time?"
Miko rolled her eyes. "What's your mom going to say when my parents tell her that you drove yourself and a first grader to the park without a license?"
Well, she did have a point.
"Fourth-grader," Raf corrected, also sinking down as far as he could. "I skipped some grades."
"Sorry, guys," Jack said, "but my mom will ground me until the end of time if she finds out we're here. We'll have to come back another day."
"But won't Miko get into trouble for running away?" Raf asked.
Suddenly, the Camaro started up again. Slowly, it backed out of the parking space and rolled out onto the street. It went slow, almost as if it were tiptoeing. As if it didn't want to be seen.
Miko grinned, delighted that Bumblebee had indulged in her mischief. "Too late."
But something was wrong.
Jack felt it in the slow, careful way the car was driving. It paused around every corner, even when it didn't need to, like how Jack looked over his shoulder every morning during the school year when he had to walk to the bus stop by himself. He put his hand on the door, just below the passenger the window where there was a long, jagged scratch that had been filled in with some kind of metal. It looked like a bad scar. Whatever his reasons, Bumblebee had always kept watch over Jack and his friends. He had even kept Jack's mom safe on the freeway; "losing control of the wheel" had actually saved her life a few times.
Jack trusted that Bumblebee would do anything to keep them all safe.
And he was right.
None of the kids realized it—and how could they when they had never encountered a Vehicon?—but two black and purple muscle cars had just driven past the park. Not good. Not good at all. Luckily, Bumblebee had parked on the other side of an SUV, which blocked him from their view.
As they drove by, Bumblebee's signature yellow paint went unnoticed. When they were gone, he snuck out of the lot and headed in the opposite direction. Then he turned off his speakers so as not to alarm the children and sent a quick message to base. Three years had passed since the Deceptions had been seen out in the open. Seeing them now, in Jasper, Nevada of all places could only mean one thing: Megatron had returned.