Title: Mark
Timeline: Approximately 5 to 6 years after initial Decepticon contact
Rating: PG-13, for death, some language, and mentioning of people doing the nana-chacha
Disclaimer: I only own Amberleigh and half of the Erins. The giant robots belong to Hasbro, and everything else belongs to Cafei.
Author's Notes: This is a "Contra Mundum" gift fic, written as a birthday present for CM's author Cafei. I strongly suggest reading it before you read this; it's a great story with a different twist on the world of the Transformers. And Cafei, happy birthday, hon! I hope you like it.
Not beta'd, so feel free to point out mistakes.
oOoOoOo
"There's a reservoir of rain water down the second right-hand tunnel. Uh, take the canteens for drinking water and the buckets for washing. The reservoir is this safe point's only source of clean water, so you can't use your own canteens and may not clean anything in the reservoir itself. Take your flashlights with you, 'cause there are no lights down there. Try to not get your hands in the water.
"And, uh, I think that's about it. You'll get your sleeping stuff when you get back, and I'll be here if any of you need me." As the group collected their canteens and buckets, David mentally went over his little speech; he hasn't been in charge of the safe point for too long and was trying to determine if he left anything out.
While in thought, an unexpected weight on his shoulder caused the young man to jump. Looking down, he saw the offender: a hand. Look turned into glare as David's eyes followed the arm attached to the hand and up to the owner's face. "Yer doin' good, kid," Jeb said with a ghost of a smile.
Glare fading, David turned to look back down the tunnel the refugees have entered. "You think so?"
"Considering how long ye've been in charge? Sure. Might want to tell 'em not to take anything. 'S not like ye've got the supplies to spare, an' last time I caught a coupla people doin' just that."
David nodded. "Right. I'll do that tomorrow."
Jeb just patted his young friend on the shoulder before he followed the group to the underground lake. David, with nothing better to do until the people start heading back, set himself to the never-ending task of sorting through his supplies. One of these days he'll have an organization system set up.
Yeah. Right. And the Decepticons' mortal enemies will land right on top of his base someday asking for directions.
The young man snorted softly to himself. If that ever happened, he'll kiss Jeb full on the mouth.
Before that oh-so lovely mental image could fully develop and imprint on his brain, a throaty coughing sound, followed by a few shrieks, quickly drew his attention back to the dark tunnel. In it, surrounded by echoes of now nervous laughter, a young woman was looking over her shoulder towards the underground lake. Judging by the hand over her heart and heavy breathing, the strange noise had startled her as well. With the giggles fading and giving way to the soft murmurs of talking, she shook her head slightly and resumed her walk back to the main chamber.
It was then she noticed that she was being watched. Stopping short, she gave David an embarrassed smile. "Hi."
"Hi," David replied, giving her a smile of his own. She was kind of cute; not exactly model material, but these days, nobody was. Strawberry blond hair, tall, slender, and she looked to be about his age. "Do you know what…" He made a vague gesture towards the source of the noise.
"One of the Erins, I think. One said the lake reminded her of The Hobbit."
"The what?"
"Some sort of book, I think. I don't know, I've never read it." The girl was now walking closer to him, giving him a better look. Her brown eyes were beneath eyebrows that, while nowhere near as bad as Groucho Marx, looked as though they would appreciate a good tweeze, and there was a slight smattering of acne dusting her forehead.
Her smile, though. She had a nice smile.
"What are you doing?"
David quickly looked into the box he was crouching over. 'Oh man.' He was caught staring, and now she was calling him out. "Um…"
"With the boxes, I mean."
"Oh." He refrained from heaving a sigh of relief. "I'm just going through my supplies, and stuff." 'And stuff? Smooth, dude. Reeeaaal smooth.'
"Oh." She was standing behind him, hovering; he could feel her eyes on him. Seconds ticked by as he dug through the box, wracking his brain for something to say to fill up the awkward silence.
She beat him to it. "I'm Amberleigh, by the way."
He glanced at her over his shoulder. "I'm David."
"Nice to meet you."
"Yeah. Same here." He looked at her for a few seconds before returning back to his rummaging. Slow footsteps told him that Amberleigh started pacing around the room, looking at all the small waystation had to offer.
The footsteps stop. "You run this all by yourself?"
"Mostly, yeah."
"That must kinda suck."
"Yeah. Sometimes, yeah."
This time, the awkward silence was broken by more footsteps and low chuckles returning from the lake. "D'aww…"
"How sweet!" Two dark haired young women were giving him and Amberleigh amused, sappy looks.
David gave them his best 'I am not amused' look. "The Erins, right?" he asked, looking over to Amberleigh for confirmation. She nodded. "Ah." Closing the box and standing up straight, he dusted his hands off on his grungy jeans. "Okay. Let's, uh, go get ya'll blankets so you can pick out a cot."
oOoOoOo
"'Sat everyone? No? Who're we missin'?" Jeb squinted as he peered into the darkened interior of the van, counting heads. Sure enough, the number was off by one. Though how that happened-
"I'm not going."
All eyes turned to look at Amberleigh stepping out from behind a pillar in the dilapidated parking garage. "What? Why?" Jeb asked as David gaped at her, mouth hanging open in surprise.
The young woman shrugged. "There's nothing for me in the mountains, and David shouldn't be here alone."
Jeb stared at her thoughtfully for a moment before reaching over and shutting David's mouth. "Yer choice."
He slammed the van's door closed, leaving the other refugees alone to witness one Erin smirk to the other and say, "Told ya."
"Yeah, yeah," the other groused, handing her a candy bar; the rare junk food items have replaced money when it came to bets between friends.
The van pulled away slowly, bouncing down the rubble-ridden street and leaving David and Amberleigh standing in the dust it left in its wake.
"So… I guess it's time for the grand tour, huh?"
oOoOoOo
It started out with them trying to keep everything between them as formal and business-like as possible. They never stood too close to each other for too long, they always slept in separate chambers, and they tried to limit their talk to improvements on the base. In a demonstration of organization that told of the makings of a Class A librarian or administrator, Amberleigh made an inventory check-list of all of their supplies, letting them know exactly what was needed to be retrieved during the next supply run. And during said runs, one always stayed back at base with an eye on the security feeds, watching out for any surprise Decepticon attack.
That was at the beginning. Over time, the two grew more comfortable with each other, joking around or comforting one another whenever the weight of their responsibility weighed down on them too much. And neither of them cared that one winter night, to battle both cold and the clutches of a harsh nightmare, a hug became a caress, which in turn became frantic kisses and a level of intimacy that neither of them had explored with the other before.
They began sharing a room that night. But still, they insisted that there was nothing more between them than friendship, feeling that by claiming anything more, they would have too much to loose.
That didn't make it hurt any less when they were finally forced apart.
oOoOoOo
"Damn it, Amber, run!"
The day should have been Friday the thirteenth. Maybe it was; nobody kept track of time much anymore. For all that David knew it could be the fourth of July. That didn't change the fact that his friend and partner was being chased by a brutal looking Decepticon.
The only upside was that the 'Con's alternate modes were no good for driving through Dallas' twisted roadways; he was forced to chase Amberleigh on foot. It wasn't much of an advantage, but she could at least duck down narrow alleyways and into buildings where he couldn't follow.
Not that it was doing her much good. The chase was approaching a half an hour, and the young woman was tiring.
Perched on the edge of his seat, David helplessly watched the screens in front of him. The camera locations were too wide spread, and several minutes would pass by before catching sight of either the predator or the prey. During those times, he didn't dare use the CB radio to try and contact Amberleigh; she could be hiding and the noise would give away her position instantly.
Seconds ticked by, and then his radio crackled to life. A low, feminine voice whispered so softly that it was almost consumed by the static. "It looks like the coast is clear. I see a manhole, and I'm going for it."
Before he could even respond, a sudden blur of movement streaked across the screen focused on the Adams Mark Hotel.
Amberleigh didn't even make it halfway to the sewer's entrance when the flash of a high-powered energy weapon vaporized her instantly.
David stared at the screens in shock. Up above, through several feet of cement, he could hear a muffled chuckle come from the Decepticon. On the television set, a tank rolled forward before transforming into its bipedal form. "That's one less squishy to worry about." It snorted contemptuously at the spot Amberleigh had stood before shifting into a third form, some sort of jet, and taking off.
Several hours later found David standing outside on the streets between the two buildings making up the Adams Mark. There was no sign of his friend's passing, not even a patch of scorched concrete.
Numb. He felt numb. He figured, in a detached way, that he must be in shock. Her passing was so quick, he could not help but wonder if she even knew what happened.
He did not know how long he stood there, staring at the ground. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. All he knew was that his friend, his companion, his lover was dead. Gone.
Finally, he slumped down to his knees and cried.
A soft breeze picked up as his tears abated, and he tilted his head back, relishing in the soft caress that was so much like Amberleigh's gentle touch. Slowly opening his eyes, he stood with a heavy sigh; the sun was setting, and he had to get back to base.
He turned to give the area one final visual sweep, and that was when he saw it.
This place, the Adams Mark Hotel, was unintentionally built with a strategically sound architecture. Given some time, a little relocating of the security cameras, and a few supplies, he could turn this square into a Decepticon deathtrap.
He dropped into the sewer system with his mind buzzing with ideas. It was time for him to fight back.
It was time for the Decepticons to pay.