Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I merely borrow the characters to weave my own tales. My apologies if Trent seems too OOC.
Most people thought that Trent DeMarco hated Sam Witwicky. He didn't. Tent envied him. Sam had close friends, loving parents, a happy family—everything that Trent wanted. Trent had "friends" for appearances, a drunk for a father, no mom, and a younger sister with cancer. Trent was always the one who had to go in with Gabriela. He was the one who had to donate bone marrow, sit with her through the agony after treatments, and comfort her when she cried.
And through all of that, he had to stay in college and keep up appearances. He had to laugh and joke, act arrogant, play football, party, act as if nothing was wrong. He hid the silent agony behind the mask of a jerk. When Mikaela left him at the lake, and Witwicky gave her a ride, he was glad. Mikaela didn't deserve to be stuck with him. Nearly every day, when he got out of school or after work, he would go visit Gabby in the hospital. He had no time for a girlfriend. Then, in late spring, Trent found the courage to break free of his mask.
Trent paused as he entered the room. The young girl lying in the hospital bed looked up and smiled, despite the bruise on her cheek from where she had hit the pillow too hard. "Brought you flowers," He said, setting the bouquet of roses down on the table. "I'll get a vase later." Gabriella hugged him, and he carefully returned the embrace. "How're you feeling?" He asked, stroking her bald head.
"Trent, you see me every day." She said with a chuckle.
"Almost every day." He corrected. "I'm not about to let you sit here alone and suffer."
"You suffer too." She pointed out, lowering the bed.
"Misery loves company." He said dryly, carefully tucking the sheets closer to her thin frame, studying the deep bags under her eyes and weary expression.
"I'm fine. Just tired."
When she had first started Chemo and her hair had fallen out, Trent had shaved his head and wrote, in marker, on his forehead, "Hair grows back. My ego won't." and drawn the cancer ribbon on his cheek, along with dozens of hearts and smiley faces. Gabby had laughed until she cried. Trent had proudly kept the words and drawings until they washed off, several days later. Since their father was never there and their mother was dead, Trent gave Gabby the support and comfort she needed to make it through the long nights after treatments.
"Trent?" Gabby's voice broke him out of his thoughts.
"Yeah, Gabby?"
"You don't have to hide. You can let someone in, Trent."
You don't have to hide. You can let someone in.
Gabby's words echoed in his mind as he sat in his truck, staring at the steering wheel. He hid the fact that his father abused him. He hid the fact that Gabby had cancer, and that he was her donor. He hid the fact that it hurt every time he acted like a jerk. He hid the fact that every night he would hold back tears. He hid the fact that he woke up screaming and crying in the middle of the night because of nightmares. Deep in thought, he put the truck into drive and hit the streets, driving without a destination as he thought.
After a while, he realized he'd come to a stop facing a cliff, miles out of town. For a few minutes, he simply stared straight ahead, then looked down at the dashboard, reminded of all the times he'd simply gone out for a drive to get away from his father. His father was the one who had bought it in the first place, and he had bought it off of Mr. DeMarco. It fairly stank of his father.
Lifting his head, Trent stared at the cliff. Then he got out and walked over to the edge. A steep drop. Slowly, he turned and looked back at his truck.
A minute later, he watched his truck launch over the edge of the cliff with a blank expression on his face, feeling an odd sense of accomplishment and freedom. The feeling increased as he watched it crash, roll, crumple, and shatter when it hit the ground. There was silence for a few seconds, then he burst out laughing. He laughed so hard that it hurt, and it took him ten minutes to recover enough to pick up his duffel bag and begin walking.
It was a long way back by foot, but he was grinning like a Cheshire cat, and he had a slight bounce in his step. He was free.
Two days later, he moved out of his father's house, bought another truck, and rented a house in Tranquility.
"I heard that the Olsons' rented out their house." Judy Witwicky said. "I wonder if the new neighbors will be friendly. Maybe we can invite them over for dinner?"
Ron didn't have a chance to reply, as Sam bounded down the stairs. "I'm going out, bye!"
"Curfew at eleven!"
"I know, dad!" Sam called back with a groan.
"Oh, he's gone out with Mikaela." Judy said with a sigh, looking at the baby booties. "And he was so little. It's like he just grew up . . ." Sniffing she took a swallow of wine.
Sam grinned as he approached his car. "Hey, Bee."
Good morning! The radio sang.
Suddenly, a red truck backed into the driveway of the house next to them. Sam could hardly believe his eyes when he saw who stepped out. "Trent?" He exclaimed, standing frozen, one hand on Bumblebee's door.
