Author's Note: Forgot to mention last chapter, this is supposed to be post DOTM!

~~~Epsilon Pax & Bumbee

###

So...now what?

Annabelle balanced her phone in her palm thoughtfully. Squinting in the gloom she could just make out the soft orange glow of their campfire. Now, with the weight of her conversation with Optimus upon her, she didn't really want to go back. It didn't feel right, besides, how many times had her father stressed that everyone's first priority—whether they were official NEST personnel or not—was to always help the Autobots remain as unnoticed as possible. And a blue Peterbilt semi-truck with bright flame decals pulling up to a teenage campfire party was anything but subtle.

Then again, some of the people who Annabelle actually did regard as friends were back at the camp still. So, if she just disappeared into the woods, they'd notice. With a huff of frustration Annabelle plunked herself down into the damp grass, chilled fingers restlessly finding a twig and proceeding to break it into smaller fragments with a series of satisfying snaps.

She was stuck. Optimus had told her to stay put, but if she didn't go back people would notice.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

And if anything she was sure she couldn't risk her friends coming to look for her and inadvertently seeing Optimus, just as she couldn't ask him to drive up to the camp.

So...now what?

Snap. Snap. Snap.

Another sigh and Annabelle flung the bits of twig away into the carpet of grass. Rocking back and forth, she craned her neck back, back, looking up, up, up peering through the patchwork of leaves and branches towards the flashes of the night sky that peaked through.

"Little one, there are other sentient beings in the wide galaxies besides Humanity and Cybertronians."

The deep basso of Optimus' voice rolled through her thoughts, sending a thrill of fear skittering across her skin and taking root in her nerves. That she had seen a U.F.O had never been a doubt. She knew what she had seen, recognizing instinctively that those orange lights had not been any make or model of helicopter. She didn't care what anyone said or thought; she had seen an alien. In her young mind, once she had locked upon the conclusion of U.F.O, she had only to ask: Autobot or Decepticon.

But what if it really had been neither?

there are other sentient beings in the wide galaxies…

Here was another option, new and frightening possibilities that had never dawned upon her. Ever. There were humans, there were Autobots and there were Decepticons. That was it. As plain as day and indisputable as two plus two equals four.

Optimus had seemed so casual about the notion of other beings. Annabelle had to wonder if he had personally met any of these other extraterrestrials. If there really were other beings, Annabelle found that she had a hard time believing that at some time, somewhere, along the lines of his many sojourns through space, Optimus had not met any other beings. And given how ancient the Autobot leader was, she began to accept his knowing otherworldly individuals as a certainty. Maybe that was why he had been so casual, assured sounding when he mentioned it earlier?

Or maybe it had been because he hadn't taken her seriously…

Annabelle knew that she had cried 'U.F.O' once before, she had heard the tale of innocent ignorance told, and re-told countless times by her father again and again to audiences both Human and Cybertronian. It was a favorite for many of her honorary uncles on base, how cute little Jelly Belly had looked up at Papa Bot and asked, asked so sweetly…

"…Do you think one day I'll get to meet a real alien?"

Optimus—Lennox had to give him credit—never hesitated, "Perhaps one day, little one…"

'Alien' to Annabelle, then and now was something different, something foreign, strange, unknown. Never could she compute those words with the Autobots, not with her Bumbee, her Papa Bot, her Uncle 'Hide…But that didn't matter, she had seen one then, just as she knew she had seen one now. Yet, everyone had laughed then, was Papa Bot laughing now?

The bright chirrups of a bird, the song of a nightingale floating through the darkness, soft and sweet, brought Annabelle back into the present and, more pointedly, back into her predicament. Clicking her tongue against the inside of her cheek, Annabelle continued to regard what she could see of the night sky, wondering...wondering...

...Whatever or wherever that U.F.O had been hovering over didn't seem to be far...

Emboldened by the knowledge that one of the fiercest Cybertronian warriors was on his way, Annabelle sprang up from the ground, decided. She would find where the U.F.O had been, find the location and prove that yes, yes this time she had found one and this time no one would laugh. Flicking on her phone, she winged a text message to one of her friends back at camp: "All clear, don't worry about cops showing up. Btb, decided 2g home, my uncle is g2 pick me up."

With one problem solved, Annabelle felt calmer, confident in her decision. After all, she would be of more use if she could at least point Optimus in the right direction of where the light had appeared rather than if she just remained where she was, sitting in the grass in the dark.

Concluding to walk around the camp so as to avoid detection, Annabelle began her trek, but had scarcely set off before she slipped, skidding into a nearby tree. The soft ground, slick with the damp of night was certainly not stable walking ground for someone in flip-flops. So, she kicked them off, relishing the whisper of grass against the soles of her feet. The pleasantly cool sensation centered her, brought her consciousness into focus and let her feel more connected to the moment, to the earth itself. Tucking her shoes into her back pocket, Annabelle promptly set off once more, working her way, careful, quiet, around and away from the camp, in a half circle.

Her heartbeat quickened, drumming against the underside of her ribs when she drew closer to the camp; close enough in fact to see the flickering orange glow of the fire through the undergrowth. It was strange to her, looking in on the gathered group this way. Snippets of conversation, splintered voices, flashes of people laughing, dancing, eating, talking all drifted over to her as if from across an insurmountable gulf. Which, she realized with not a little bitterness, wasn't far from the truth. Because of who she was, of who she knew, she could never be like them. She could never see bright lights glimmering in the heavens and playfully speculate if there was alien life out there.

She knew the answer, had lived with that knowledge, and more importantly, had helped to safe guard that knowledge all of her young life. It was her burden too, perhaps not as great of a weight as her father bore, but it was a weight for her nonetheless; one that drew that invisible and irrefutable line, divide, gulf, yawning chasm, between them and her.

As she turned away, groping for a path around the camp once more, high pitched whistles and chirps from birds rang softly in her ears. Unbidden and instantaneous, memories from her childhood flooded her.

Flashes of bright yellow, twin black racing stripes, bright baby blue eyes. Click, click, whistle, chirrup, whistle…

Bee. Her Bee.

A frame, big and hulking, black as night at its deepest hour with a voice as rough and rich as gravel… Tears bit at the back of Annabelle's eyes as she remembered her Uncle 'Hide, fierce and forbidding…and forever gone now…

There were many other images that began to accompany her every footfall, softening a heart that had been hardened by that sudden surge of bitterness.

Blinking sirens, glimpses of green and white.

Everyone's favorite Doc Bot.

An unmistakable silhouette, laced through with orange, red and blue with a voice that rumbled with the underside of thunder and velvet.

Papa Bot.

Annabelle smiled, all traces of bitterness gone; she loved the bots, each and every one of them. They were her family, one that she could never trade for anything, not even the chance to be normal. If being abnormal was being with the Autobots, then she didn't want to be anything like normal.

Papa Bot…

Roughly she skidded to a halt, narrowly avoiding smacking her head against a low flying branch.

Papa Bot.

He was on his way…and if she knew Optimus, she also knew that he usually didn't go anywhere without at least mentioning to human personnel where he was going or what he was doing. And that 'usually' rapidly became 'always' whenever it regarded her, just as that 'human personnel' became 'Lennox-her-overprotective-father.' Annabelle swallowed thickly: in short, Optimus would tell her father that he was off to pick up a way word teenager from a bonfire party. A bonfire party she hadn't mentioned to either of her parents. A bonfire party that was taking place when she was supposed to be at a friends house studying. After Optimus told him, Lennox would respond in typical fashion…by grounding her until she was thirty…twenty-five if she was lucky.

She was doomed.

Unless…unless she could talk to Papa Bot before he talked to Lennox, but in order to do that she had to get away, as far from the camp as possible.

Now the name of the game was distance. Running as quick as she dared, Annabelle skirted the camp, moving faster than what was probably safe, wanting to find solitude so that when she called Optimus again, she wouldn't be in danger of anyone over hearing her. Preparing, she slipped her cell phone into her palm as she moved, ducking under another low swinging branch here, skipping over a thick, rising tree root there. It wasn't long before the glow of the bonfire receded, then disappeared entirely behind her. Still, she wanted to be sure and continued forward, wondering when had the ground began to slope so sharply downward? Not paying much heed, she attempted to multitask, flipping open her cell phone, trying to scroll through her contacts lists as she darted down what was little more than a deer path.

BB, Ratch, 'Sides…the names flashed by.

An errant root five steps away…

Four…

Uncle Epps, Uncle Stuart, Uncle Olsen, Uncle 'Hide…

Three steps…

Auntie Elena…

Two steps…

Papa B—

Thwack!

That stray root seemed to surge upward, tangling up her ankles, sending her tumbling, tossing down the now steep hillside, arms akimbo, her cell phone bouncing uselessly away as she fell, down…down…down…