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Something was telling me to turn and high-tail it out of the woods.

Correction: my senses were telling me to turn and high tail it out of the woods, despite having no reason to realistically do so. I knew the woods behind my home like the back of my hand. I'd trotted down the winding trail hundreds of times, backpack in hand. I enjoyed the outdoors, I enjoyed nature. I especially enjoyed anywhere that was quiet, and the forest was, understandably, just that.

My senses didn't detect danger. They detected unfamiliarity, which translated into danger. Something was different. The terrain had changed since the last time I'd been here. I could see tire marks in the dirt, and several branches lay abandoned on the usually barren trail before me. It looked as if something large had stepped its way through the woods. My brain immediately settled on a bear, before I realized that the extent of the damage said otherwise.

A flash of yellow caught me off guard, and I veered away from the path, staying still behind a tree and scanning the small space devoid of any trees of bushes ahead. I didn't see a person, and instead stumbled across something even stranger.

A classic yellow and black Camaro, pristine, just…sitting there. I stepped forward, tilting my head and making my way towards the vehicle. It had to have been abandoned, and recently. There were no signs of weathering, and its windows and windshield were fully intact.

I gently pulled on the door handle, surprised when it swung open. I checked the interior of the car, finding it as undamaged as the outside. There was no logic to my next move, no reason why I chose to do what I did. I climbed inside, shutting the door and sighing, momentarily shielded from the heat. The seats were made of dark leather and the inside was empty. No bags, no boxes, no keys or wallets. No sign that anyone had been in the car prior.

At least you didn't discover a crime scene.

I reached over and fiddled with the radio, fucking around a bit before my gaze drifted to the steering wheel. There was no logo — well, there was, but I'd never seen it before. The face staring back at me was metal and looked eerily human. It was plastered right in the center of the steeling wheel, and my hand instinctively reached out to touch it.

The engine revved. I nearly leaped out of my seat, not even bothering to reach for my backpack as I tried to yank open a door that wouldn't budge. I shrieked, foot slamming on the break.

It did nothing.

"What the fuck?" I yelled. The seatbelt snapped around my chest as the vehicle bounced across fallen leaves and mounds of branches. I could see the trees moving by, and I wondered if my ass was hallucinating. I'd done nothing. I'd touched nothing, and now I was stuck.

Remote control car?

Oh, God. This is some elaborate kidnapping scheme. There's a murderer and he lured me into his trap. Oh God —

I continued to scream. The Camaro bounced through my backyard and onto my driveway, where it tore towards the main road at breakneck speed. I'd given up struggling and instead began crying like a little bitch.

Wow. Impressive.

"Calm down, little lady," the radio buzzed. I stopped, my lips twisting into a snarl as I took in the rhythmic words.

"Calm down? What do you mean 'calm down?' What else am I supposed to do —fuck, I'm arguing with a fucking radio!"

"Don't you worry about a thing."

I nearly vomited. The car was talking to me. And it was speeding down the desolate road towards an unknown destination. I had no idea what awaited me — death? Some weird car-like purgatory?

"Please," I steadied my breathing, wiping away a tear. "Just…what's going on? What are you? Where are you taking me?"

The radio didn't answer. I felt offended. Now it chose to stop talking?

I settled against the cushions, stifling my rising urge to throw up with fear. The vehicle pulled off onto a dirt road, bouncing its way down hill until we could no longer hear the thrum of passing cars from the main road. That was when I received a taste of freedom and found myself tossed like a rag doll from the vehicle, rolling to a stop as overcome with fear.

The car changed. Even in the darkness, I saw parts shift and rotate, accompanied by the metallic scrape of metal against metal. The thing towered over me, nodding in my direction with its hand out as if finishing a presentation.

Cool trick.

"Oh, God," I blanched, ducking my head. The creature was watching me, arms crossed. I heaved up some water, for it was the only thing settled in my stomach. "What the fuck? What the fuck is this?"

It's a robot.

Yeah, no shit.

The creature ducked down, seemingly concerned when I failed to stand back up. I shakily looked at it, my eyes settling on its face. I hated the fact that it wasn't threatening per say, not like a typical monster. It was tall, armored, but it's face was rather soft and childlike, it's eyes wide and filled with genuine curiosity.

I got to my feet, finally, focusing on the creature.

"Who are you?"

The creature pointed to the shed nestled in the trees. It was dilapidated, abandoned. I glanced at it, puzzled.

"What?"

"We need your help."

I watched in confusion as a group of people clambered from the shed. They were all in various states of undress, the tallest of them all barefoot and wearing a sweatshirt that looked as if it had been yanked from a dumpster. Which, now that I think about it, probably had been.

"Oh, good, people who speak my language," I rolled my eyes. "Big yellow over there said that you guys need help?"

There were four men. The tallest was the leader, and I could tell just from the way he held himself. He seemed focused, eyes narrowed at he took in my smaller form.

"Bumblebee, what of our other human allies?" the tallest spoke in a deep baritone, and I found myself reeling back as he seemed to disregard me. The massive, shape-shifting Camaro behind me just shrugged, unsure, before nodding in my direction.

The leader seemed heartbroken, an expression which was followed quickly with frustration. He kicked at the ground, his hard gaze finally focusing on me.

"I understand that this is all very…stressful for you, however, Bumblebee's intentions were harmless. He simply wishes for you to help us in our…predicament."

"What predicament? You guys homeless?" I placed my hands on my hips. I saw one of the men - a shaggy haired man with a broad chest - snicker. "Your friend didn't tell me shit."

"The situation was urgent. We are in need of human help," the man replied gravely. The man seemed hesitant, but finally gave in and began gesturing to the men behind him. "This is Hound, Drift, and Crosshairs. I am Optimus Prime."

Well fuck me sideways.

There was only so much my brain could handle. My brain was typically like a sponge, able to soak up information fairly quickly.

This was not one of those time.

"So you guys are on the run, sort of, from a group of people who want to kill you. You," I pointed to Optimus, "are like some sort of alien kung-fu Jesus who can speak to your ancestors via some weird thingy in your chest. Which, during this whole debacle, you decided to do and they turned you temporarily into humans to keep you safe?"

"That's one way to put it," Crosshairs lay on his back, staring up at the sky. "Although, I'm not to well-versed in Prime speak either."

"You're not to well-versed in general," Hound, who was a hulking, broad man with a physique of a wrestler, said gruffly. The quietest of them all, I'd come to realize, was Drift. He just sat in his corner, legs crossed, observing.

This is the most zen shit right now.

Bumblebee was picking at some flowers. Optimus was the only one focused on the task at hand, and I instantly knew why he was the leader.

"The Prime's granted us the ability to hide amongst your species temporarily."

"Why are those people, Cemetery Wind, trying to kill you? I mean, you didn't do anything wrong? Like, what happened in Chicago was fucked up but you guys fought for us."

"Members of your species do not see it that way," Optimus sighed.

"I'd say fuck em' and ignore it, but that probably won't help," I tugged at the grass. "Look, I live alone. I don't have friends. I don't have much going for me—"

"All we ask is for a chance," Optimus said softly. "Just for the time being."

"I was going to say," I smirked, catching Optimus off guard. "That I would enjoy the company and I have a spare bedroom. Also, you all need clothes. And a shower. And…everything."

Bumblebee chirped happily, and I smiled. I glanced up at Optimus and added, "Why wasn't Bumblebee transformed?"

"The Prime's gave me no explanation," Optimus replied. "Bumblebee was left out of the equation."

That's probably good. If things go to shit he can fight, I guess, and you guys have a free ride. And now I have a free car," I stifled a laugh, glancing over my shoulder as Bumblebee nodded enthusiastically. I still wasn't used to his kid-like movements and enthusiasm that reminded me of, well, me. "It's a win-win. C'mon."

I stood. Bumblebee chirped and transformed, popping his doors opened. The rest of the bot's looked hesitant, and I realized that it was a bit…odd. They'd probably hadn't been inside the car form of another alien before. Or, I assumed they hadn't. I barely knew anything about these aliens-turned-human, and I was allowing them to stay in my house.

Gotta take a risk.

You like to act all hard and tough, but you're a fucking momma bear at heart.

I just hoped I wouldn't regret this.

The Autobots dispersed as soon as we stepped through my door. Almost immediately I wrangled them back together, mainly out of fear that they'd break something. Hound wasn't the gentlest, as I'd quickly discovered, and Crosshairs, well…he didn't really care. It was easier having them together so I could explain the do's and don'ts. I had no idea how much knowledge they had on human living spaces, for I assumed they'd never really been inside a house before. Luckily they were quick learners and could grasp concepts well enough that, by the time I finished, they were nodding and roaming about. Optimus remained by my side, shoulders relaxed, fatigue evident on his face.

"You should go to bed," I pursed my lips, catching Optimus' attention. "I know it's a bit early…I can handle everyone. Bumblebee is, uh, recharging — I hope that's the right word — in the garage."

"I will rest in a while."

"Optimus," I tilted my head. I could tell that he was lying. "You're as stubborn as I am. You know where the guest room is."

Optimus sighed and glanced down at me, blue eyes so vibrant and bright that I was sure they'd bore holes through me. A small smile flashed across his handsome face before he nodded, heading towards the bedroom. I watched him go with an unfamiliar feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Oi, fleshy!" Crosshairs snapped me out of my trance. "What do you do to entertain yourself?"

"Fleshy?" I stared to where Crosshairs had settled on the couch. My couch, mind you. "My name is Rachel, not 'fleshy.'"

"Eh, screw formalities. Turn on this thing for me!" Crosshairs waggled the TV remote while I just stared at him, raising my eyebrows. Hound sighed and snatched the remote away, slamming his big thumbs against the buttons. The screen mounted on the wall flickered to life, and Crosshairs seemed embarrassed.

"Nevermind."

"See, you guys don't even need me. You're advanced alien robots," I crossed my arms, glancing over to the guest bedroom. The door was closed. I prayed that Optimus was at least trying to rest.

He needs it.

"How much television did you guys used to watch? Did you have entertainment like this on your home planet?" I slid into the love seat next to the couch, where Hound, Drift, and Crosshairs were curled up, exhaustion evident on their features.

"We had entertainment. Gladiator pits," Hound answered. "Annual games."

"Like the Romans," I smirked, and Hound shrugged. "Humans used to do that to."

"A shame they don't do it now," Crosshairs folded his arms. "I'd pay to see you fighting in the ring."

"I mean, boxing is still a thing," I replied. "I've been wanting to try it. I…like that kind of stuff."

"I'm sure if you ask Prime, he'll teach you," Crosshairs snickered. I wonder if he knew how easy it was to read his expressions. I could see the rather malicious glint in his eyes, and I couldn't help but roll my own in return. "He is, after all, the most skilled."

"Are you usually this full of shit?"

"Watch your mouth, fleshling," Crosshairs sat up, brows furrowed. He yelped when Hound knocked him across the head before turning to me, looking rather apologetic.

"To answer your question, yes, he is usually this full of shit. You get used to it, though."

"No problem. I can make him sleep outside," I chuckled as Crosshairs stared in horror. "If he behaves, I won't have to."

"I will not complain if you do," Drift said lowly. I met his eye and he winked, settling back into his comfortable silence.

"You're outnumbered, Crosshairs," I said slyly. "Remember that."

The defeated look Crosshairs shot me was something I would remember forever.

We began to wind down after an hour or so. We flicked through channel after channel, rarely staying on one but for a few minutes. I didn't know how many shows, how many human concepts I explained to the bot's, but it was enough to leave me physically and mentally exhausted. I finally flicked to a movie, setting the remote on the table and making sure Hound, Crosshairs, and Drift were focused on the screen before slipping from my seat and heading towards the guest bedroom. I passed the garage, peeking inside and smiling at Bumblebee, who lay curled up like a baby, legs stretched across the entirety of the garage.

Okay, that's adorable. Bee is adorable.

The fact that he was an alien didn't perturb me as much. Not as much as it had earlier. My brain was on autopilot and I'd forced myself to take in the situation and address it with an almost annoying calmness.

The real breakdown will come soon enough.

The light was on in the guest room, so I assumed that Optimus was still awake. I gently knocked on the guest room door, hearing Optimus give a soft acknowledgment and allowing me to push open the door. His chest was bare and, obviously, the dude was ripped. I almost scolded myself for thinking otherwise. He was tall, he was a leader. A soldier, from what I was slowly discovering.

Of course he's jacked, you dumbass! They all probably are!

"Yo," I gave an awkward wave, shutting the door behind me. "I just wanted to make sure that you're doing okay. You know, adjusting."

"This human form is different, but manageable. I've learned that in terms of both anatomy and culture, our species are rather alike."

"We both walk on two legs, have mouths," I chuckled, and Optimus gave a small, barely noticeable smile. "I'm glad you're adjusting. I really am."

"You have been a tremendous help. Opening up your home to strangers takes courage," Optimus ducked his head. "I'm unsure if most other humans would have done the same. Thank you."

"Bumblebee was pretty convincing," I smirked. I sat on the guest bed, gesturing for Optimus to join me. He did, lowering himself slowly against the mattress. "So…what happened? You know, with these…people. Cemetery Wind. You've been on Earth for a long time…"

"We have," Optimus stared at the floor, contemplating his next words. "Longer than you know."

"Tell me."

Optimus did.