Dear diary,
I'm still staying with Ratchet and Optimus, for all of Ratchet's plans of shifting me around like a parcel. It feels like home here. Plus, Ratchet says that Optimus really enjoys having me here, and he's willing to do anything to make Optimus happy, the sap.
Anyway, it's not like I have another place to go right now. The Protectobots are still in shared quarters, in a hangar next to the Aerialbots, and there's no room there for me right now. No privacy either, and much as I love Hot Spot and the others, I don't really fancy spending my time in a bunk in a shared room with five mechs.
Groove says he's working on something, though. Says he has a plan that'll let me "move out of my folks' place".
Yeah. He said that.
Both Groove and First Aid visit as often as they can. Groove comes by whenever his schedule lets him, which isn't very often, but he's promised that when he gets his plans finalized we'll all be living together. So there's that. And First Aid works nights right now, since Ratchet's on days, which gives him the evenings free to spend with me. Since he's a medic, Ratchet's willing to let him take care of me for a few hours.
Ratchet's very bossy.
I still have issues with my balance and my systems and – well, everything, really. At least I can read my own HUD now. Laserbeak was here the day after I got to leave hospital, along with Ratbat, Eject and Ravage, and between them they managed to get me up to speed on what the hell everything means.
The smug look on Ravage's face when he managed to finally get me to understand my own self-diagnostic system after Eject had tried to make me get it for the last half hour was priceless. Laserbeak helped me save an image capture.
My new body comes with an integrated camera. I sense great potential for fun.
I've got to wrap this up. Smokescreen is coming by, he says he's found a way for me to work on my body control. I don't know if I should be excited or worried. So I'm going for a bit of both.
It's not just Smokescreen, though, when I open the door.
"Hey, girl." Blaster grins at me. "Good to see you lookin' good."
I squeal. Loudly. "Blaster! I haven't seen you since I had a pulse!"
"Well, I came to see if you still had a beat!" He winks at me. "Let's get you out of this house, huh?
I manage to shout a goodbye at Optimus before they drag me off. Good thing Ratchet is in recharge, or leaving would take an age. My surrogate parent is not above threatening grievous bodily harm if anything were to befall me, and he's got this long list of things to look out for in me that he tends to recite to anyone 'taking responsibility' for me. It basically adds up to 'if she starts to act weird, get her to the hospital stat and call me', so I figure most of them already can figure that out by themselves.
That doesn't stop Ratchet, though. He doesn't have a great deal of faith in the common sense of most mecha, he says. Not after such a long war. I guess he does have reason to be a little skeptic. Hopefully he'll calm down when I've been functioning for a while.
I'm still not supposed to transform, so Smokescreen takes my arm as we walk. It's not a fast mode of travel, but neither of them complain.
Though I guess we're good, since Blaster's alt mode is completely stationary. He's probably used to walking.
"Where are we going anyway?"
"There's a park around the corner," Smokescreen replies. "With a courtyard."
"Okay." I look up at him. It's slightly comforting to still be shorter than almost all of them. "And we need a courtyard because?"
"You'll see." Blaster chuckles.
God. These mechs can be so aggravating when they want to.
Luckily, it really isn't far. And when we enter the park, there's another surprise waiting for me, lounging up against a garden wall like he belongs there.
"Jazz!"
"Hiya, sweetspark."
His grin's still the same. His everything's still the same – I can see the temperature gauge on my HUD climbing slightly.
Slagging sex-turned-solid mech.
Still, I hug him. Because he's Jazz, and Ratchet was right about there being a connection between me and him. He feels so familiar now, I half expect one of those pings I didn't understand about unknown familial ties to crop up again.
"It is so good t' see ya, Isobel," he croons. "Ya have no idea how much we missed ya."
Oh, I think I do. Only in my case it was just for a decade, not a whole century. So I hold on a little longer before letting go.
"It's so good to see you too! How've you been? How's Prowl?"
"Workin', as always," he laughs as he pulls back a bit. He keeps a hand on my shoulder. "He's tryin' t' secure a functionin' government, which is just as hard as it sounds. But he told me t' say hi, and that we really want t' see more of ya."
"I'd love to visit at some point," I agree. Prowl has been a steadying force for me ever since I first discovered the Autobots existed. "I'll talk to Ratchet, see what he'll allow, okay? You have my comm link?"
He grins. "I do now."
"I hate to interrupt the reunion," Smokescreen says, doing just that, "but we're on a little bit of a set time frame here."
"You ready, Isobel?" Blaster asks from behind me.
I shrug as I turn around, my shoulder blades dipping. "I don't even know what the heck I'm supposed to be ready for."
"For this." Blaster grins easily as he transforms, long limbs and heavy armor twisting and shrinking until there's just a small boombox on the low wall.
I know I'm staring. But Blaster's a big bot. And that's a seriously small music player. Almost human-sized.
"…huh. I'm not a physicist, but that doesn't look like it should be physically possible."
"Impressive, right? Blaster has really fancy mass displacement capabilities. Get Wheeljack to explain it to you at some point." Smokescreen settles against the wall with an easy smile and a pat on Blaster's alt mode. "Hit it, mech."
Then there's music. And oh, I know that music.
It must show on my face, because Jazz chuckles at me. "Between me an' Blaster, we've got every piece of music Earth had t' offer last time we were there. Comes in handy now."
"Now? How so?" I can't imagine Earth music is that great a hit on Cybertron.
"Because then I get t' dance with ya again." Jazz reaches out and takes my hand.
"Oh no you don't," I say sternly, pulling my hand back. "I could barely keep on my feet with you when I was human. I'm not risking it now, when there's always some part of my body that's not listening to me."
"Like I'd take chances with ya," Jazz scoffs. "Ratchet would have my plating for spares. Take it easy, Cynosura. This," he takes my hand again, "is just dancing. Isobel-style."
And so we dance.
It takes me a few minutes to warm up to the idea of dancing as a Cybertronian, in public, where anyone can walk by and see. But hearing the music again is just too much fun, and Jazz's energy truly is infectious, and Blaster must have chosen the songs on purpose, because I can't stand still for long.
Fun's Some nights gives way to Lady Gaga gives way to Gaelic Storm gives way to Flogging Molly gives way to Justin Timberlake gives way to Alan Walker. And then the first chords of Despacito ring out.
"Blaster, you utter slagger."
He just laughs at me, sounding thoroughly unrepentant. "You had some moves on Earth, girl. Figured we'd see if you could recreate them."
"I wanted t' try this too," Jazz confesses, his hips closing on mine and his voice sultry. "It looked way hot when ya danced with th' twins. An' Prowler doesn't do steamy-hot dancin'. So will ya do me th' favor?"
Well, damn. Who can argue against Jazz's hips, anyway? I've certainly never stood a chance.
Like before, the music moves through my frame and grounds itself in my legs, triggering my hips to move. So I let them.
I'm more flexible than I had thought. One of Jazz's hands is on my waist, chaste touch guiding me, his hips flush against mine. His other hand on my cheek, cradling my jaw. My back curves as Jazz dips me, and something shifts in my shoulders to let me lean even further back. For all that it feels intimate, it's much more proper than the routine I did with the twins. And thank goodness for that, because my HUD helpfully informs me we have an audience.
When Jazz's hand trails from my cheek down across my shoulder and torso and over my hips to my leg, sliding down to the back of my knee and hiking my leg up, I dip back far enough to be practically upside down. I have such a sense of déjà vu, I half expect First Aid's holoform to stand there with an inscrutable expression on his face. Instead, there's a very familiar pink bot, canting her head and grinning at me, and an unfamiliar red and orange mech with a flame pattern on his torso.
I squeal, loudly, and bat at Jazz's hands to get him to let me go. He's nice enough to get me upright first, spinning me towards the new arrivals.
"Arcee!" As soon as Jazz lets me go I'm off, throwing myself at her. She's slightly taller than me still and definitely has better balance, so instead of me knocking both of us to the ground she just spins with the movement.
"Hey, Cynosura! Wow, you look amazing!"
I hug her as best I can, taking care not to thwack any part of anyone with my shoulder blades. "It's so good to see you! How have you been?"
"Oh, you know, turning heads and rebuilding society." She grins at me. "Cynosura, meet Hot Rod. He was part of Ultra Magnus' posse. Roddy, this is Cynosura, the one I was talking about."
I smile and hold out my hand. "Hi, Hot Rod. Nice to meet you."
He doesn't shake my hand. Instead, he clasps my forearm. I hurry to do the same. "Hey, Cynns! You looked great out there!"
Cynns?
He releases my arm. His grin is wide and infectious. "Arcee tells me you're an Earthling originally – guess it's a big transition for you, huh? So, what's up with the dancing, anyway? Are you practicing for the club scene or something? Because I've got to tell ya, despite what Blaster and Jazz and Blurr and that one neutral whose designation I can't remember is trying to do, we don't have much of a club scene yet."
Cynns?
"Though if we did, with moves like that, you'd be really popular really fast." He winks. "I liked the music, too. Earth music, right?"
Cynns. Cynns.
Fuck.
"It was Smokescreen's idea, actually," I explain, trying desperately to find my footing. It's going to take me a while to get past this one. "I still have issues controlling my frame, and he thought dancing would help."
"It did help," Smokescreen calls from behind me. "You should see yourself, girl. You need to do this more often."
"Is that an offer?" I call back. "Because I have two guys who're likely to get jealous if you keep sneaking me off to dance!"
Jazz's chuckle is almost drowned out by the sound of Blaster's transformation sequence. "We actually have a plan for that," Blaster says. "I'll show you over a cube, you must be low by now."
I can't really argue with that. My fuel levels have been dropping steadily. Dancing's exhausting.
"Hang out with us for a bit?" I look at Arcee and Hot Rod. "I really want to catch up. And get to know you better," I add for Hot Rod's benefit.
I'd really like to find out why he called me Cynns. And preferably get him to stop.
"Sure," she agrees easily. "That's why we came, anyway. Someone owes me a lunch date." She winks at Blaster, and I don't miss Hot Rod's tiny frown.
Well, that could be interesting. I'd better get Arcee to come over for a gossip night soon. It wouldn't hurt any to find out how the Cybertronians are doing socially, either – Optimus and Ratchet are decent enough at explaining the technical and sociopolitical matters, but they're not the most observant of mecha. Arcee should be able to give me a heads-up on most of it, so I'll know what to prepare myself for when I finally get to take up my practice again.
I sit down on the bench and accept the cube Smokescreen hands me. He's sprinkled something in it, I can see the small flakes.
"Nickel," he explains at my curious look. "Gives it a bit of a sharper, more zingy tang. I think you'll like it."
I sip at the liquid carefully. It's not half bad.
"How do you like life as a Cybertronian so far?" Arcee looks at me as she accepts her own cube from Blaster. "I know you weren't prepared to wake up to this."
"Honestly, I like it. I just need to get used to the energon. And being – well, Cynosura." I turn to Blaster. "Speaking of. I never thanked you for the look."
"Not much to thank me for," he replies with a smile. His smile is just like his holoform's. "Rewind had images of the design, and we figured it was easier to use that than make a new one. You looked happy in the video."
"You look really good," Hot Rod pipes in. "Never seen that frametype before."
"Nobody has," Jazz replies. "She's unique." He leans in and kisses my forehead. "I've got t' go, sweetspark. But first, we wanted t' give ya somethin'."
I put my cube down on the bench. "Ooh! A present?"
"Of sorts." Blaster pulls out two tiny metal chits from subspace. "These are for you."
Jazz reaches for one of them and holds it up, showing it to me. "This is a data chip. See th' green stripe? That's an indicator of capacity. This one's small."
"Okay," I nod. It's kind of like an USB drive or something. "So what's on it?"
"That's the real surprise." Blaster smiles at me. "That one's your playlist. It has a few thousand Earth songs on it. You can copy them to your own internal memory, so you always have them with you."
I grin so widely it feels like my face is splitting in half. "That is so awesome! Show me?"
Jazz takes my hand, teasing open a cover I hadn't noticed before. It reveals a slim slot that seems made for this kind of chit. "Ya install it in here, and accept th' transfer." He gives me a sharp look. "Now, ya never want t' be installin' directly from a chit unless ya absolutely trust the source. It's way too easy t' pick up a stray virus or corrupted file or somethin' this way unless ya's careful."
Arcee chuckles. "Careful Jazz, your spec ops is showing."
"Meant it to." It's hard to tell with that visor of his, but I get the feeling he's frowning at her. "War may be over, but it ain't all sunshine and roses yet."
I slide the chit into the slot in my arm. "Got it. Better safe than sorry." The alert pops up on my HUD, and I watch as the files transfer to a new file in my memory drives.
I'm a computer. It's ridiculous, really.
"Now, once they're in there, you can play them any time," Smokescreen explains. "And that was the point of this, actually. It's your movement soundtrack."
I stare at him. "My what now?"
He smirks at me. "Choose a file to play."
The first file I manage to access is the Beatles' Dear Prudence. It feels appropriate, somehow. But when I choose play, the music is audible to everyone, not just me.
"What the frag? Where's that coming from?" I stare down at myself, but I can't figure it out.
Arcee giggles. "Stand up, Isobel. Look at your waist."
I look down as much as I can. I'm not that flexible, but at least I don't have the same issues Prowl and Jazz have with seeing their own fronts.
At first I don't know what she's referring to, but then I see it.
I have fricking speakers on my stomach.
Oh, they don't look like Earth speakers. They're slats, sort of, thin narrow gaps in the metal. But that's clearly where the music's coming from.
I laugh. "That is way cool. I'm my own music system."
Blaster laughs at me. "Welcome to the club."
Integrated camera, internal memory banks, integrated speakers… I wonder what's next?
Well, there's the other chip in Blaster's hand, for one. I forgot about that for a moment. "So what's on the other one?"
"This," Blaster says, grinning widely as he holds up the other chip, "is everything else."
I just stare at him. I feel like my eyebrows should be climbing if I had any. "Everything else?"
"Yep." He pops the p. "Everything else. From Abba to Ziggy Stardust, from Albinoni to Zimmer, from ancient lute music to MTV music awards. The lot."
I still don't understand. It apparently shows, too, because Jazz takes mercy on me.
"It's pretty much every piece of music we could download on Earth," he explains. "We could get everythin', so we downloaded everythin'. An' saved it. An' now ya's getting' a copy."
Everything.
I stare at the tiny, flimsy piece of metal. "This holds every piece of music the internet had to offer?"
"Yep. More music than could be listened to in a human lifetime, even if all the humans on Earth right now were listening." Blaster hands me the chip. "Don't plug this into yourself. You don't have near sufficient memory enough to hold it all. If there are any particular songs you want to transfer, put them on a datapad first."
I take the tiny, giant musical catalog with something approaching pure reverence. "This is amazing."
It really is. It's a piece of home, one of the most important pieces, and I can't believe it's all there.
It's all there.
"Kind of a lot to take in, huh?" Arcee says sympathetically. "You haven't lost your culture, Isobel. At least not this part."
Smokescreen leans forward to look at me. "Is this a bad time to say we've done the same thing for popular culture?"
"What?" I know I sound dumb. I feel dumb, right now. My brain isn't computing properly.
"Every TV series. Every movie. Every book and comic available online." He smiles. "Everything you've known and loved, Isobel, safe and sound in Soundwave's databanks."
I burst into tears.
I don't mean to. I'd even forgotten that I could. But this is too much. I can't process it.
I thought I'd lost everything. But somehow, I'm getting it all back.
Strong arms pull me close to a warm chest. I catch glimpses of bright red and orange plating.
"Shh, Cynns," Hot Rod murmurs. "I know you're overwhelmed. But it's okay. It's okay."
"Get her home," Arcee says. I can practically hear the frown. "She needs a break. I know you mean well, but this was too much at once."
Jazz kisses my head again. "I'm sorry, sweetspark. I do need to go. I'll check up on ya later."
Hot Rod pulls me to my feet. His hands cradle my jaw, tilting it so he can look at my face. "Are you going to be okay walking? Or do we need to get a transport here?"
I shake my head and rub the tears away. "No. I can walk." I'm mostly embarrassed, now. "Sorry you had to see that."
He shrugs. "Don't worry about it. Not the first tears I see, probably not the last."
"You okay, Isobel?" Smokescreen at least has the grace to look a bit embarrassed too. "We didn't mean to spring it all on you like that."
"I'm okay." I hook one arm aroung Hot Rod's and the other around Arcee's. "And you are all hereby invited to come back home with me and listen to the prettiest music known to mankind."
I'm still unsteady, despite the dancing session. But I can manage, as long as I have someone to hold on to.
I can't believe how much I've missed some of this music. The pearl fishers duet and the flowers duet. Debussy and Dowland. Beatles and David Bowie and Bob Marley and Frank Sinatra.
I'm floating on a cloud right now.
Of course, that could also be because I'm exhausted.
I played DJ for the others for hours. It was fun to see who liked which songs. Blaster knew most of it, of course, though I managed to surprise him with the Poldark soundtrack. And Arcee, classy girl that she is, liked everything. Ratchet, once he stopped being grumpy about us waking him up, objected to a lot of what I put on, but he never left the room so I figure he was just grouching to be ornery. He's like that sometimes.
Hot Rod was the most fun, since he hasn't been to Earth at all. He was dancing around by the third track. And now he wants to learn how to play the saxophone. Guess that's what I get for trying to prove that jazz is a musical genre and not just an Autobot.
I detect many future projects for Wheeljack and the other engineers if there are more bots wanting to play human instruments. Maybe I should introduce them to the xylophone or something - I think that can be made using metal.
Arcee and Hot Rod stuck around until Optimus was back, and then they had to stay for fueling. Poor Hot Rod was so overwhelmed by being in the Prime's company that he was completely tongue-tied and barely got a word out. Looks like there's a serious case of hero worshiping there.
He kept calling me Cynns, though. Arcee said I might as well give up on that point.
I did ask him why he hugged me. I'm not that used to being hugged by strangers. He said that he was mainly the closest one, but after a bit of prodding he admitted that the others kind of froze and he didn't. He claimed it was probably because they've been trapped on Earth while he's been traveling with Ultra Magnus to other Cybertronian colonies and alien planets. He has more experience handling 'weepy Neutrals'.
That made me think of myself differently.
I guess I am a Neutral. I'm certainly not going to take a brand – or if I am, I'll dig up something that indicates my profession, not a faction. I'm officially factionless.
Maybe if this peace lasts everyone will be.
Recharge is not like falling asleep.
Falling asleep used to be lying down, maybe reading a bit until my eyes were tired, getting really warm and heavy and then suddenly nodding off. Initiating recharge is…
Well, for one, it has to be initiated. I actually have to activate a response in my frame that shuts down the alert systems one by one until I'm under. It's more like shutting down a computer system than anything else.
I'm not comfortable with it.
I'm still trying my best to do the damn initiating when my door slides open and a familiar profile enters. And now I'm glad I'm not in recharge, because First Aid hasn't spent the night with me since I woke up in this frame, and I've really, really missed it.
So nobody can blame me, really, if I reach for him before he's even fully entered the room.
"Hello, love." The chuckle is light and quiet. "Thought you'd be in recharge by now."
"I hate recharge," I grumble. "I just want to fall asleep."
"You're cute when you pout, did you know that?"
I lean into the hand on my cheek. "Well, you're biased. You probably think I'm cute no matter what." I turn my head enough to kiss his palm. "Did you come to stay?"
"Yeah. We've knocked the schedules around a bit – there's a new Neutral medic working at the hospital now, so we can ease up a little." His mask clicks away, and he kisses my cheek. "Gives me more time to spend with you."
"I'm glad. I missed you."
First Aid's a bit taller and a lot heavier than me, so there's no way I'd manage to pull him into the berth if he wasn't going willingly. Which of course he does.
It's so nice and comforting, cuddling into that big frame. But it also highlights how alien everything about this situation really is.
I should be sleeping curled up on his chest. Cradled into the small hollow on his back. Not fitting in his arms like I belong there.
It all feels off. On top of everything that's been going on today, it's a bit too much to take.
"…hey, First Aid?"
"Yeah?" He kisses my forehead.
"Is there any part of me that's human?"
He sits up slightly at that, frowning down at me. "How do you mean? You're not technorganic, love."
I shake my head. "Not what I meant. I mean…" I sigh, try to gather my thoughts. It's not easy to put these feelings into words. "I feel like a robot. Like a computer. So much of what I'm doing now revolves around code, and commands, and memory files, and priority trees, and… I don't know. Is there any part of me left that's human? Where's the part that's me?"
"Oh, Isobel." His optics are warm, caring, and I don't resist when he pulls me into a sitting position as well. "I'm sorry you feel like that. And I know it has to be disorienting. But I promise, love, aside from residing in a metal body now instead of an organic one, you're every bit as human as you were." His hands take mine, caressing my wrists. "What made you you wasn't your body, though that was part of how you defined yourself. What made you you is still in there."
"Where?" I whisper. "I can't tell anymore."
He raises a hand and rests it on my chest. "In here." He cants his head, scrutinizing me. I don't know what he's looking for, but it looks like he finds it. "I want to try something. A few somethings, really. Will you let me link up? We'll use the medical port. I need to show you how to do this."
I nod. "Sure. You know I trust you."
He smiles, and it's my smile, the one I fell for on a holoform's face in what feels like another lifetime. It's hauntingly familiar and painful to watch.
For some reason, everything's hard to deal with tonight. Maybe I'm getting overwhelmed.
I hope whatever First Aid's got planned will help.
I raise my arm, sliding open the cover over the medical port. First Aid connects with a low click, and I feel his presence in my mind.
It's soothing and weird at once. Which is basically the story of my life these days.
First Aid uses his medic's privileges to override whatever he needs to override to get into my system. And then his voice is in my head.
-I'm going to show you something, love. It's a command you're not going to be using that often, and probably most often with close loved ones like me and possibly Groove, but it's necessary to know. Follow my touch.-
Follow his touch, he says. Like it's that intuitive.
Though, surprisingly enough, it is.
First Aid's touch is like a bright blue line, glowing like neon piping, tracing through my systems. I watch his path, paying attention to his twists and turns, until he pauses at a layer of code I haven't seen before.
-See this line here? Activate it.-
Activate it? How?
-Just highlight it, love. And when prompted, you'll know what to do.-
Huh. It's almost like he can hear me.
-I can hear you, love. You're talking back in your mind.-
Huh. Cool.
-It is. Now highlight the code.-
I do as he says, and a line of text promptly appears on my HUD.
Open chest plates Y/N
I pick Y, figuring that's what First Aid wants. The feeling of approval over our connection indicates I was right.
Open spark crystal Y/N
I… don't know?
-Choose yes, love. It's not necessary, but it'll let you see better.-
O—kay.
Notice: spark exposed
Holy saint on a sawhorse.
My spark's exposed.
My spark's exposed.
I have a spark.
Which, logically, I knew. But still. Still.
-There you go, love. Look down.-
I do, because of course I have to. I have to see this.
There's a green light cascading out of my chest, illuminating the space between First Aid and me, the soft green glow highlighting the edges and curves of our frames.
I raise my hand in front of my chest wonderingly. "It's… It's green."
"Yes," First Aid answers. His voice is soft, too. Maybe it's that sort of occasion. "The only Cybertronian to have a green spark."
I look down as much as I can. I'm not flexible enough to look into my own chest cavity though.
First Aid, bless him, has a small mirror.
In my chest, there's a pulsing emerald orb. It spins slowly, stray waves and fluctuations in the glow, random strobes of green light glancing off the back and sides of the clear spark crystal.
It doesn't look like me. But I know without a doubt that that's the core of me, even so.
"Why's it green?"
"We don't know." First Aid angles the mirror, shows me the light reflecting off of the edges of the open spark crystal. "Skyfire theorizes that it's a reflection of your origin. Though sapphire would perhaps have been a more expected outcome."
"Sapphire would have been logical," I agree. "But I really like that it's green. It's… woods. And grass. And all those organic things you don't have here."
"Exactly. Now, find the commands for closing your spark chamber again. There's something else I want to show you."
It takes me a bit of fumbling, but I manage to close the crystal and plating without further prompting. First Aid doesn't disconnect – instead, he pulls me to my feet and moves away from the bed.
"Now, this only works because you have such a big room here, okay? Be mindful about doing what I'm about to show you in small spaces."
I giggle, and yes, there's a slight edge of nervousness. "That's reassuring."
He smiles that gentle smile again. "Don't worry. I've got you."
I know he does. He always does.
"Follow my touch."
This time it's easier. I know what to expect and how to do it. The code is even starting to make a bit of sense – if we did this enough, I bet I could figure myself out.
When he stops, I highlight the code he shows me.
Initiate transformation sequence Y/N
"Holy crap, First Aid."
"I know. You can do it. There's room. And I'm right here, still connected to you, and can guide you if you need it."
I take a deep, steadying breath. "Well. Here goes nothing."
Y
My limbs curl, twisting in ways they really shouldn't be able to, and my back splits apart. My optics offline, and my head folds down, my legs tuck in under me, and suddenly I'm tipping forward –
- somehow not falling on my face, though it feels like I should be.
I bounce slightly as I land, wobble from side to side a bit before settling.
For a moment, I just take everything in. Because it's so different.
I thought waking up as a bot would be the biggest change I'd ever go through. But no. This, this is the biggest change I'll ever go through.
I'm a frickin' motorcycle.
And somehow, I can tell that I am. I can't see, not really, but I can sense my surroundings, picking them up as angles and vectors and open spaces and obstacles. First Aid is a large mass next to me, and although I can tell where he is and isn't I can't really see his details.
It's really, really, really, really weird.
"You can comm me if you want, love. I'm not sure your vocalizer's set up to work in alt mode."
It takes me a moment to find the right command, but I manage. ::Take a picture of me?::
He laughs lightly. "You've got it. You're gorgeous, love."
He circles me, taking pictures from every angle, before taking my handlebars – and boy, did I never think that was a sentence I'd ever need – and moving me gently towards the wall.
"Now, there's one more thing I really want to show you while you're in alt mode, love. And it's going to be tricky to get at first, and might be a bit of a shock, but I think you'll like it."
I bounce a bit on my wheels. Hello, I'm an excited motorcycle! ::What's that?::
He kneels next to me, one hand against my frame in a steadying touch. "You have a holomatter generator. It's pre-programmed, too."
I have a… what?
::I have a holoform?::
"You do. Follow my touch, and I'll show you."
I don't know how First Aid's managed to stay connected throughout my transformation, but he did. By rights he should have gotten tangled up in all those moving pieces. Maybe it's a special medic power.
Again, his touch is easy to follow, but the code he leads me to is huge. I don't even know where it begins.
-Here, I'll help. We'll create a short command for this, so you can use that. Just watch me and see what I do.-
That I can do.
First Aid highlights the code, so much of it, and it branches out in several directions. Some of it, I get the impression is tied to my memory, some to my frame controls, and some are just branching off into the unknown. First Aid somehow knows exactly what he's doing, pulling all those strings in the same direction, creating a shortcut I can use. It's much shorter, easier to read and find. I think I'll manage to find my way back.
-Now. Highlight this.-
Activate pre-created holoform Y/N
I choose Y.
Transfer full frame control to pre-created holoform Y/N
Y again.
Suddenly, I'm bipedal. I'm standing up, First Aid's form towering over me. I'm soft, organic.
I'm human.
More than that, I'm me.
First Aid bends down with the mirror again. It's full-size to me.
In the mirror, there's a blonde woman, hair in a pony-tail. She looks younger than I remember – more early thirties than early forties.
I'm how they remember me.
Heh. Even the tears. Though I didn't mean to cry.
"Do you like it?"
"I love it," I manage. Even my voice is the same. "Oh, Aid, I love it. I'm still me. I'm still here." The laugh that escapes is half a sob, but now I'm smiling and I couldn't stop if someone paid me to.
"You always were. Just in a bigger shell, that's all." He smiles down at me. "Now, you're going to have to focus to maintain it as I disconnect, okay?"
I nod. I'm me, I'm a holoform human, and I'm going to damn near stay this way until I find out what First Aid is planning.
I watch him disconnect from a flashy white and green motorcycle. It's sleek, and fancy, and fast-looking, and, yeah, hot.
Really hot.
"Wow, Aid, did you build your dream bot or something?"
He flashes me a grin. "Something like that."
His transformation sequence is familiar. I've seen it so many times before from this angle. Though I've never seen him actually transform in a room that's barely big enough for him to fit in.
And then his holoform appears.
The same smile. The same hair. The same visor-like sunglasses, even.
Those long eyelashes. Shadowing his cheek when he looks down. Just like they did when he left me ten years ago.
Ten years and a century ago.
He opens his arms just in time for me to fall into them.
His hug is familiar, too. He smells the same. He even feels the same.
He feels the same to me. I can't tell the difference from touching him as a human and touching him now.
Very, very, very good holomatter technology.
"See?" he says softly. "You haven't lost anything. Only now, you have two forms to play with."
I have to chuckle at that. "Two forms, huh? Are you encouraging me to spend more time as a holoform?"
"From a medical point of view, you shouldn't transform unsupervised yet, and I'd love for you to be comfortable in your frame too. From a personal standpoint…" He smiles at me, tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "Well, I have to admit that I've missed this form too. Probably not as much as you, but I've missed it."
"I'm glad I still have it, then."
And then I kiss him.
It's sweet and familiar and perfect and I can't believe how much I've missed this. It's insane. I mean, he's right here. Since I woke up, I've seen him every day.
But this… I hadn't realized how much I feared that I'd lost this.
First Aid's lips are soft and pliant against mine, giving more than he's asking for, and it's so easy to just melt against him and stay there. When I finally pull away, I simply rest my head on his shoulder instead.
"I've missed you so much." It's barely even a whisper, but I know he heard it.
He kisses my throat. "Love you, Isobel. Let's get you to bed, shall we?"
"I can sleep like this?"
"You can. Give me a moment to transform and give you a lift up, okay?"
I wait for those careful metal hands to scoop me up and deposit me oh so gently on the berth surface. My berth is much, much harder in this form than in my frame form, and the metalmesh blanket I've been using is like multi-layered wire fencing. I can bend it, but it won't warm me much. And Cybertron is cool at night.
Thankfully, First Aid comes to my rescue, as he always does. He pulls something thick and white from subspace and spreads it carefully on the bed.
It's a massive down comforter. An actual, Earth-created down comforter.
"Oh, First Aid, I could kiss you."
He chuckles. "Not going to lie, I'm kind of hoping for that. Let's make sure you'll stay warm first, though. It won't hurt the holoform to freeze – at worst, you won't be able to maintain it, and it'll dissipate – but I want you to be comfortable for this. So get on that, love, and I'll spread the second one over you."
I crawl onto the soft surface. It's utter heaven. And when the second one lands on me, covering me nearly completely from top to toe…
Sheer, utter, magnificent perfection.
Just missing one thing, really. "Come here, Aid."
He transforms again, and the holoform manifests directly in my arms. I laugh and rest my forehead against his. "Showoff."
"Glad you still think I'm impressive." He smiles and pulls me closer, shifting the comforter around us. "Now sleep, Isobel."
For the first time since I woke up as a Cybertronian, I close my eyes and just drift off.
