Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.

I stood in front of the house that seemed to bring back memories from a long time ago. Taking a deep breath, I gently pushed open the gate that separated me and the house.

Hesitantly, I knocked on the door, adjusting my left crutch at a better position. I took another deep breath of air when I heard locks clicking open.

"Oh...oh my GOD!" The scream that belonged to Mrs. Witwicky erupted around my ears as she engulfed me into a hug. "LUCIA DEAR! IT'S BEEN SO LONG!"

"Um..." my voice came out muffled and unheard, being drowned out by the loud sobs of Mrs. Witwicky.

"We thought you were dead!" she sniffed. Oh, Mrs. Witwicky, no matter how much I respect you as a fellow friend of your son, please do not use me as your tissue.

"Can't...breathe..." Nope, I was still unheard.

"Oh Lucia, we are so glad to have you back! You'll have so much fun with Sam, and-Oh! Sam doesn't know you're here!" her voice went down a little, and my lung was getting ready to explode. "RON! GET SAM! WE HAVE A GUEST!"

"Who is it, for crying out loud?" Mr. Witwicky asked, stepping outside.

"It's Lucia! The one we thought dead!" Mrs. Witwicky said happily. My arms were slumped as were my legs. Oh gosh, maybe I was going to die again...

"Oh. Well, she already gave a call a few days, an-would you let the poor girl go already?" Mr. Witwicky irritably asked. Mrs. Witwicky did, and I let in a great gulp of air.

"What do you mean she gave a call?" Mrs. Witwicky demanded.

"I mean that she's staying for a few weeks until her legs heals, and then she'll be ready for duty." Mr. Witwicky replied casually, as if letting a supposedly-dead person stay in your house and not telling your wife was a great idea.

"B-but you KNEW?"

"Yeah, so what?"

So the married couple proceeded in an argument that involved mostly insults. Such a weird pair...but they're also a great comic-relief pair when you need it, huh?

And, just to add to my humor, Sam stepped out in his pajamas.

"Yeah, Mom?" he asked, but turned to me, "Holy sh-"

He fainted.

"Yup...Sam's still the same..."

"So do you feel like greeting me properly or...?" I asked, holding out my arms. Sam glared at me.

"I'm not a little kid anymore, Lucia." he said back.

"What, I can't get a hug?" I put my arms back down, crossing them over my chest.

"So what're you doing home so early?"

I gave him a look that said, 'Really? Are you blind?', before sticking my casted foot, as best as I could, up in his face, "You think I could work with this?"

"Uh, I meant how'd you get it. After all, you're not part of the military," Sam held his arms up in surrender. I rolled my eyes.

"If you really must know," I placed my feet atop the table, since Sam was doing it as well. "I was investigating a case, and then, something attacked my group. I was the only one to make it alive."

Instantly, Sam brought me in a friendly hug, "I'm sorry."

"I've gotten over it," I sighed. Hey, I got a hug! "So, how's your life going? Got a girlfriend yet?"

Sam blushed and slammed a pillow in my face, "Shut it, Lucia."

"I'm taking that as a no," I rose an eyebrow. "You look kind of dressed up. Where are you going?"

"I was getting ready to go to the lake with Miles and my new car," he said the last three words proudly.

"A car?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yes, my first car."

"Well, what is it?" I asked, getting my crutches up.

"Come see for yourself, oh great wise one," Sam smirked.

"Don't push it, Witwicky."

"Not bad," I mused, "a 1970 Chevy Camaro with black racing stripes."

Sam puffed his chest with pride.

"So, where'd you get him?" I asked, poking it's tires to see if it was sustainable.

"You gave it a gender?" Sam asked in disbelief. I shrugged.

"It is a muscle car, genius."

"Oh. I got him at some dude's place," Sam shrugged, "would you believe he had a petting zoo? There was an ostrich!"

"You have got to be kidding me," my jaw dropped at the thought of an ostrich at a car lot.

"No, I'm not," Sam said plainly, "so, are you coming?"

"To where?"

"The lake, with me and-"

"I am not going with you and your friend," I rolled my eyes.

"Please? You get to ride in the Camaro," he sang, swinging his keys around.

As tempting as that may be... "Sorry Sam. As much as I love the Camaro, I'm not going."

"Please?" he had puppy eyes, going on both his knees and bowing down.

"Really, Sam?"

"Please? I'll be your best friend!" he whined. At that point, a song came out of nowhere.

[Please~]

"Sam..." I warned in a low voice, crossing my arms over my chest, my crutches leaning against my side.

"It wasn't me! It was the radio!" he protested, running towards the car, and hitting the radio. I rolled my eyes.

"Fine, seeing as I have no other choice left," I gave in, and Sam gave a cheer.

"Yes!" he cheered, and the radio burst to life, which resulted in Sam hitting it. "By the way, please take a look at my car later!" he grunted, punching the radio a little harder than necessary.

I rolled my eyes, and using my crutches, swept his feet from out under him, "With the way you're solving things, it might never be fixable."

"Yes mom," he said sarcastically, spitting out dirt.