Transformers Prime: A Friend In Need
Rating: T for some strong language, some violence, gang related situations, and some adult themes
Genre: Friendship/Drama
Short Summary:
After Season 2 Finale-Smokescreen is alone after escaping the Destruction of the Autobot base and while running from Vehicons, he ends up a terrible crash. What can he do if he can't transform because his T-Cog was smashed? When he gets bought by a girl named Carlee?


::Chapter Three::


*Repair Nanonites System: 45%*


*Systems Reboot initiating...*


*HUD and Systems on lining...*


*Energon fueling systems: 68%...*


Static was the first thing he saw as he started coming online. They danced across his screen as if taunting him as he tried to online his optics. A lightning of pain struck across his lines and he groaned painfully as he slowly drifted out of recharge.

The first thing he could think of was, "Ow."

Smokescreen's optics finally began seeking light as they onlined but to his pained confusion, only one of his optics seemed to be receiving anything. He groaned again, static and sparks erupting from his vocoder. He grunted once before blinking his one good optic, trying to rid himself of the blurry images being sent back to his processor.

'Wh-where...' he thought painfully before he looked around, still seeing blurred images.

He sent a sequence to reroute and readjust his optic before he got a good look at what was sitting in front of him. He jolted a little from surprise and that seemed to be a big mistake. The sudden movement sent a painful jolt through his entire frame.

"Argh...*zsstch!*...ow..." Smokecreen groaned in pain as he stilled himself.

He looked forward again to see a rusted piece of scrap that he supposed was to be a car. He frowned in confusion before looking around again. He was dissatisfied to see many others all around him.

'Wh-what...? What happened?' The Autobot Warrior thought to himself before he turned to his HUD and tried o activate his memory banks.

It was not without some painful difficulty. He received mostly static at first before he replayed the memory. He watched from his own point of view of how he had seen the Vehicons and the Insecticons and started running to get away from them. He winced painfully when he saw himself be slammed into by a large semi truck and then everything went black.

Groaning in pain, Smokescreen shut down his memory banks and took in his surroundings. He spied a sign just over some of the scrap cars and let out a mild pained whine to see what it said.

Rusty's Salvage yard.

It didn't take much thought to realize what happened and where he was. He was in a scrap yard, probably in line to become scrap parts. The humans must have brought him here, not even knowing he was a Cybertronian, a living being.

Oh, no. This wasn't happening. He wasn't going to be torn apart for spare parts. He was not destined to be built into mindless drones or new cars. He was so out of here!

Smokescreen concentrated to turning on his engine and a spark of pain was what answered him. That, and a loud screech of metal rubbing against metal. He groaned in pain from the stab that went through his systems. He tried again but the results were the same.

"Hey! Who's out here?!"

Smokescreen jolted in alarm before going completely quiet when he heard someone shouting. He looked to see a male human come around the corner, a crowbar in hand for using it against thieves. He knew better than to blow his cover in front of humans.

The man was looking around, griping the crowbar tightly in hand as he moved over to where Smokescreen was sitting. He frowned when he didn't see anyone before relaxing. "Huh. I was sure I heard someone fucking with a car." He murmured before looking at Smokescreen.

The Autobot was holding in his intakes, waiting for something to happen. He wasn't sure what to do at this point but watch the human carefully.

The man snorted as he walked right up to the Autobot, beginning to inspect the large dent in the side. "Damn. This piece of shit sure was trashed. Whoever was driving this sure was stupid." He whistled before kicking the side of the car, sending a jolt of pain shooting through the Autobot warrior.

Smokescreen fought very hard not to react in anger or pain as he silently glared. He wanted so much to lash out back at the human but he knew the rules.

"I can't wait to get permission to get under that hood. You have got to have some fancy parts I can sell for big money." The human sneered as he tapped the hood with the bar.

'Over my deactivated frame.' Smokescreen thought savagely.

The human circled the disguised car again before sneering. "Oh yeah. You are going to make me big money, you piece of junk." He chuckled darkly as he turned away from the car.

'Again, I repeat myself.' Smokescreen wanted to snap back.

The human laughed mirthlessly as he walked away, already dreaming of the money coming that he was going to make off of the destroyed car.

Smokescreen growled as he glared after him before turning back to his HUD. He needed to get out of there. And to do that, he needed to get his engine turned on. He turned his engine again but only received choked clicks. He tried it a few times but still nothing.

'Oh, great. You sure did it this time, Smoke.' Smokescreen thought bitterly as he began looking over his damage reports coming over his HUD. He may not have been a medic but he didn't need to be to know that he was fragged.

'I have got to something.' He thought miserably before turning to his communications link. He wondered if somehow he could get Ratchet on the line. *This Smokescreen calling in. Anyone listening? Ratchet? Arcee?* he tried transmitting.

Only static rang back to him.

*Ratchet, this is Smokescreen. Please copy if you can hear me.*

Still nothing.

Smokescreen slumped on his tires, looking and feeling miserable. He couldn't get his engine started, be had a flat tire, he couldn't call for help. What the slag was he...Oh!

A light bulb seemed to click on in his processor and he wanted to bang his head against one of these rusted cars. not be able to drive out, but maybe, just maybe he could run out. Never mind attracting attention. He needed to get out of there.

Smokescreen turned his attention onto his transformation program and tried to shift into mech mode.

There was a clicking sound as his frame twitched and rubbed against each part but nothing happened.

'No, no, no, no, no! Come on!' Smokescreen now thought desperately as he tried again and again but couldn't. 'This can't be happening!' He did a quick search on his transformation systems and the results were just as bad as he thought. His T-Cog had been smashed.

In other words, he was stuck in car mode.

Smokescreen groaned loudly as he slumped on his tires, wanting to hang his head. He couldn't believe this. He was in such a mess. He couldn't drive, he couldn't transform, and he couldn't call for help from the others. How could it possibly get any worse?

"Hey! Billy!"

Smokescreen straightened a little on his wheels and looked in the direction he heard the voice coming from. He spied the human from before and an older human, dressed in dirty clothes. He obviously had been working on a machine judging from the oil on his clothes.

The man from earlier looked annoyed at being interrupted from what he had been doing before but it seemed he knew to have some restraint in front of the older man. "Yeah, boss?" He called over.

"I just got a call from Sherriff Blackburn. We've just been cleared to go ahead and dismantle that Lotus Exige that came in two days ago. There's no papers on it and no one is claiming it, so we're getting rid of it." The boss called over to him.

Smokescreen felt as if his spark had stalled at those words. That was the last thing he wanted to hear. *Ratchet! Arcee! Bulkhead! Bumblebee! Optimus Prime, sir! Anyone there, over! This is Smokescreen! Someone come in! Anyone!* he began to frantically say over his transmissions.

"Uh, Mister Deacon, what about all of the parts in the car? Shouldn't we take them out and start selling them or something? I am sure we can." The man, Billy stated.

"Billy, if you haven't noticed, we got way too many spare parts that aren't selling. We don't need more. Stay out the car and destroy it tomorrow. We'll sell the scrap block to a recycle center. And that's it. If I see any parts missing from under the hood tomorrow, you will be held for stealing. Do I make myself clear?" The boss growled.

"Yes, sir." Billy said quite miserably.

*Anyone out there?! Please, please answer!* Smokescreen practically begged over the lines, hoping, urging anyone to hear him and come to his rescue, which was he was sorely embarrassed to admit that he needed.


Throughout the night, Smokescreen tried again and again to contact the others but he got nothing. He tried turning his engine on and received painful screeches. He tried rocking himself on his wheels and ended up popping another tire on a nail he hadn't noticed on the ground.

Oh, this was definitely not the way he saw himself going. He always thought that he would die a hero, fighting alongside Optimus Rime, fighting Decepticons. He always saw himself becoming something so big that he couldn't even imagine it.

But according to the humans from that day, he was going to end up as scrap parts. tried so hard to do something about it but nothing worked.

It was so very sad.

By the time the sun came up, Smokescreen was in a state of jitters. He hadn't properly recharged as it was. He could barely catch a blink of recharge because of how worried and anxious he felt. He had spent most of the night trying to activate his SOS, not caring if the Decepticons got a hold of it or not. He, unfortunately, couldn't. He tried moving. But he couldn't. He tried to test his vocoder so he could maybe talk out loud to the humans but his vocoder shorted out, much to his distress.

Smokescreen had to officially admit it but he was seriously fragged. He tried everything but nothing was working.

And it made his spark fluctuate when he saw the sun rising over the mountain, making him tremble slightly on his wheels. He was on his last day. He was going to be scrapped in a few short hours. And there was nothing he could do about it.

*Optimus Prime, sir! Ratchet! Arcee! Bulkhead! Wheeljack! Any one! Please come in!* Smokescreen begged on the transmissions line.


It was official. Carlee was fuming in rage and disappointment. She had been pissed off before but this...this was different. She wanted to take her prized wrench out and bang it against someone's head, namely the guys who ran Raging Ralph's Auto Scrap Cars.

Of all things possible, these guys were idiots.

Carlee and her father had been to five different scrap yards and none of them had decent cars well enough for racing. They mostly had old beaters that wouldn't last well on the race track.

And to top it off, the Ralph guys were like any typical guys, wanting to hit on Carlee, instead of selling her a car.

"Dad! I'm never going to find a car!" Carlee whined as she climbed into his BMW.

Will smiled at his daughter faintly as he climbed in and turned on the car. He paused to tell her to put her seat belt on before driving again. "Relax, Car. We will find the perfect car for you. We still have Rusty's to check out. Maybe they have your car. I promise, we will find your car. Even if we have to leave Eagle and go the neighboring town." He told her as he drove.

Carlee pouted either way, her arms folded across her chest. She knew her father wouldn't give up. He would find her car even if they couldn't in Eagle. The problem was, she had only a month to have the car and have it ready. She was going to have to put a lot of work hours into making it the best.

Sighing, she looked out the window, she watched as the small buildings pass by. She just hoped she could find the just right car for her and soon. She wanted to prove to everyone that she was her father's daughter and be the best racer Nebraska had ever seen.

Pulling up to Rusty's, Carlee wasn't really looking forward to this. She knew that Billy Eastwood worked here and he was one of the guys who had been accosting her, mostly just wanting to get into her pants. He was that kind of guy. And he was her favorite girl to pick on. He loved to hit on her with the crudest jokes and pick up lines. She hated it when he started pulling his 'suave' moves on him and calling her pet names. Every time he did, she wanted nothing more than to smash his face in.

Luckily, her dad was there. Billy wouldn't try anything if he wasn't.

"All right. I'll go talk to Rusty Deacon. You go ahead and go search for a car." Will said already walking away.

Or maybe not.

Carlee shrugged anyway, stuffing her hands into her slightly baggy pants pockets. She could take care of herself either way. If Billy gave her crap, she would dish it right back.

Walking into the scrap lot, she began looking around, not impressed with the cars she was seeing. She grumbled a little as she let her eyes trail from an old bug to a Cadillac. They were so trashed that she knew it would have taken a lot longer than two months to fix up. And either way, they weren't proper race cars. She groaned as she continued her search, looking from rusted and busted car to another. She went line through line, looking for anything that might work.

From a trashed SUV, Carlee looked to what sat next to it; a 1957 Chevrolet truck that was so rusted that it had holes in the sides. She grimaced and looked on to the next vehicle; a Plymouth Barracuda. That wasn't a bad car, if it wasn't missing the back end. Again, she groaned and continued to look on.

From a, 'wow...a Rolls-Royce, nice oldies car.' Carlee thought to herself before going on to looking. She looked from an old beat up 1984 Oldsmobile Cutlass to a trashed jeep to a rather beat up looking Lotus Exige to an old 1971 pinto. And then she looked at the 1988 Honda Civic to the...

Carlee halted, her breath catching in her lungs as she realized what she had just seen before she whipped her eyes back to the car she had nearly walked right on by. She couldn't believe her eyes when she looked right at the silver, white and blue with red on the sides car that was dented to hell. It looked as if it had just came out of a rough race and lost terribly.

"No way!" She gasped as she scurried over to the car and looked excitedly at it. She honestly couldn't believe it! Her luck had changed so fast in the most unlikable places. She couldn't believe that this car, a Lotus Exige! "A Lotus!" She said happily as she placed her hands on the dented hood. And she frowned when she felt the car twitch under her palms. She could have sworn it had actually flinched under her touch, that she withdrew her hands. "Uh...sorry?" She murmured and could have sworn that it stiffened on its flat tires as if startled.

"See what you like, honey buns?"

Carlee's face fell at that familiar voice. She wasn't expecting to run into that brainless incorrigible idiot already. She turned with a dry look to see Billy Eastwood walking up with his lecherous grin on his face, his eyes already looking her over. "Billy Eastwood." She said coolly. She really didn't want to deal with him right now.

Billy grinned as he went right up to her and planted his butt right on the car's hood, which Carlee disapproved right there. She was starting to think she didn't want the car with his ass on it. Still it was kind odd when she heard a grinding sound coming from the car. She figured it was Billy's weight abusing its axels. Not that he was fat. He actually wasn't. But the state of the car was another thing. It was in such a state that it couldn't possibly have been able to support any unwanted weight right at the moment.

"So, what're you doing here, sweet legs?" Billy asked in his suppose to be suave way.

Carlee glowered at him with dislike but she folded her arms to keep his eyes off her chest since that was where he was looking. "I am looking for a car to fix up, Eastwood. I am in the race trials for the next two months. So I need a car." She said dryly. 'Not that it's your business.' She added to herself quietly.

Billy snorted as he rapped his knuckles hard on the wood and Carlee could have sworn the scrapped vehicle flinched at the contact. "You? Racing? Puh-lease, sweetheart. You can't race. You're a girl. Girls shouldn't really race. It's too much hassle for them. You really should..." he was saying teasingly.

Carlee glared at him, highly offended by his words. "I can too race if I want! I am my father's daughter! I am the best driver in Eagle, anyhow!" She growled.

"Easy, hon! I am just joking!" Billy laughed, hands raised. He shoved off the car, facing her. "So you thought about this one then? Cause it's a Lotus." He said tossing his thumb over towards the car.

Carlee shrugged. "So? Because it is a Lotus, I want it. Even if I wasn't going to race. Who wouldn't want a Lotus?" She remarked dryly.

Billy snorted before turning his head and spitting, which landed on the hood. There had been another grinding sound from the car and Carlee could almost feel sympathy for it. "Sorry, hot legs. Can't have it. This piece of shit is on the dismantling list. I actually just came to get it prepped up to put in a crusher. Maybe you should keep looking. There's a Camaro over there that would definitely look with your hot little ass..."

"Hey, watch your mouth in front of a lady. And I don't want the Camaro, Eastwood. I want this one." Carlee said bitterly.

Billy glowered right back at her, not happy to get interrupted by her. "Well, you can't have it. Unless..." he grinned again, leaning against the hood again and spat on the car again. "Unless you agree to let me take you out. I can probably get the car for you if you agree..."

Carlee glared hard at him, her chin lifting defiantly. "I wouldn't go out with you even if you were the last man on earth! You are so disgusting!" She snapped. "And quit spitting on the car! It deserves more respect than you are giving it!"

Glaring at her now, Billy stood up and moved forward to face her off. "Don't talk to me like that, girl. Little girls like you need to show some respect to your older peers. If you don't watch it, I will not hesitate to smack you...!" He threatened.

"Touch me and I will severe your hand with a three inch torch flame, sleezeball!" Carlee growled, not backing down for a second. She was not afraid of him, nor was she going to show him that she was.

Billy glared down at her, sneering. "You really are a bitch, you know that?!" He snapped into her face.

"Takes one to know one." Carlee growled back before turning away. She wanted to get away from him. He smelled like old sweat and pot. It was if he hadn't showered in days and it was burning her nose just to smell him. "Don't touch my car, Eastwood!" She said dryly as she started to walk away.

Growling, Billy reached out to grab her by her hair. He didn't let any girl talk to him like that or order him around like she was doing. He was going to teach her a lesson that she was never going to forget. "Bitch! Don't walk away from me. I am not done talking to...OW!" He suddenly yelped when his leg bumped the fender of the car, hard.

Carlee whirled around in surprise, just in time to see Billy dropping his hand from near her head and to see the car rolling back a little on its bad tires. She gaped at it for a moment before turning her glare onto Billy. "Were you about to touch me?!" She snapped.

"Yes! I mean...! No! I was...! Stupid fucking car!" Billy snarled before lifting a foot and kicking it hard in the grill.
There was a loud snap as the grill bent and cracked under his assault.

Carlee gritted her teeth as she glared hatefully at Billy. She wanted so much to just reach over and slug him for hitting the car. She knew better than to fight with an idiot like this though. She already got into trouble for fighting before and her father had made it clear that she couldn't fight anyone unless they were attacking her first. "Hey! Don't hit my car!" She snapped.

Billy whirled around to glare at her. He was seconds from reaching over and slap the hell out of her. "It isn't your car, bitch! And you're not getting it! I'm going to trash it!" He snapped.

Glaring, Carlee shook her head as she turned away from him. "Yeah, well, we'll see about that! Don't touch it!" She snapped as she marched away, wanting to hurry to get her father and Rusty. She didn't trust Billy for one second to leave him with the car for too long. She knew he would try something if she was quick about getting her father.

Practically running, Carlee ran towards the front of the salvage yard, looking for her father, where she found Will talking to the owner about the whole deal about a car. She knew she needed to be quick about it. "Dad!" She called over as she hurried up to him. "Dad! Come quick! I found my car!"

Will looked over amused but nodded as he allowed her to rush up and take his hand. "Car, will you slow it down? I am still trying to..." he was saying.

Suddenly, from somewhere close by, a loud crackling alarm was going off, making all of them frown and look to where the sound was coming from. It wasn't very far and Carlee knew exactly where it was coming from. She immediately swore and booked it, running hard. "Stupid ass...! I told him not to touch it!" She snarled.

Frowning, Will shared a glance with Rusty before they were hurrying after her.

It didn't take long for them to turn a corner only to find Billy Eastwood slapping at the dashboard inside the silver, blue and red Lotus Exige, which was emitting the loud crackling car alarm. He had tower in front of it with chains already wrapped around the front axels and it had been clear that he had started trying to haul the thing out.

Carlee hurried up to the man and glared at him. "Hey! What did I say?! Do not touch this car! That's what I said!" She yelled.

Billy sent her a scathing glare not registering that her father and his boss was there. He just kept pounding on the dashboard. "Oh, shut up, bitch! And I said you can't have...!" He was snapping.

"Hey!" Will yelled now furious that this idiot was insulting his daughter with a terrible name. "Don't talk to my daughter like that!" He ignored the 'Oh shit' look on Billy's face as he whirled around to glare at Rusty. "Is this the kind of employees you have working here, Rusty?! Boys who insult your customers?!" He demanded loudly over the loud alarm.

Rusty was glaring at Billy for his behavior bit he shook his head. "No, Mister Manning! I don't have employees who call customers vulgar names! And if I do, they won't be having their jobs for very long. Billy! Turn that thing off!" He snapped.

Billy frantically began hitting the dashboard harder. "I'm trying, sir! But it won't turn off! God damned car! Shut up!" He snarled hitting harder until the dashboard groaned loudly under his fist. But it still kept going.

Groaning, Carlee stomped over and seized him by the arm, yanking him out. "Move it, Eastwood! You' to break it!" She quickly sank down in the passenger seat and looked around before pushing a button that stopped the alarm to dead silence. "See! You need to treat it nicely! Not bash its dashboard in." She turned to the car again and lightly rubbed the new crack in its dashboard. "Ooohhh. Poor baby. Did that no brain hick hurt you? That's okay. I will make it all better once I get you home." She cooed at the car.

The car seemed to sink a little on its wheels at her words but she paid no mind to it.

Instead, Carlee looked up at her father, smiling as she gripped the steering wheel and rubbed it fondly. "Dad! This is it! I want him!" She said happily.

Everyone gaped at her.

"You are crazy! Calling that car a he?! It's a stupid fucking car! An object! Not a person!" Billy exclaimed looking at her as if she was crazy.

Carlee glared at him, still rubbing the steering wheel soothingly. "Cars have feelings too, Eastwood! You just got to be someone who knows cars to know that! Besides, I can't see this car as a girl! I mean, look at it! It's boyish!" She whirled around to look at her dad as he was already making his examination of the car. "Dad! Can I have this one?! Please!" She begged.

Will, who was surprised, looked the car over, amazed to even see a Lotus Exige in a place like Eagle. He knew the car brand's reputation for having exotically beautiful and very fast vehicles. "Huh. Where did this thing come from? How is a Lotus Exige in a place like Eagle?" He asked looking over at Rusty.

The owner shrugged looking it over. "Honestly? I have no idea. This thing was in a nasty accident just a few days ago. No one knows where it came from. There was no one in it, no one claimed it. It just popped out of nowhere. Sheriff Blackburn wanted us to destroy it if no one claimed it by today." He explained.

Carlee gasped dramatically as she stood up and hurried over to her father, gripping his arm and giving it a little shake. "No! You can't! Dad! This is it! This is my car! Please!" She begged her eyes glistening in frustration and desperation. She couldn't let a car like this be destroyed when it was the first good car she had seen since they began their search. It was her one good chance of living her dreams! Besides, it was an awesome piece of machinery that just needed some TLC to make it as perfect as it had before, before its accident.

Will smiled faintly as he patted her head before looking at Rusty. He knew how she felt about destroying this car. He couldn't allow it. Not to a Lotus Exige like this. It was almost a sin to destroy a nice car like this one. "How much do you want for the Lotus, Rusty?" He asked with a smile on his face.

Rusty grimaced, slowly shaking his head. "I don't know, Mr. Manning. I am suppose to comply with the sheriff's demands. He specifically said if no one claimed it, he said destroy it. I don't want to get into trouble." He said warily.

Shaking his head, Will stepped forward, taking out his pocket book. "You won't. Let me handle the sheriff, Rusty. If no one will claim the car, then I will. Now how much do you want for it?" He said again, willing to put the right amount for the Lotus.


A little later, after haggling the prices a little, and replacing the trashed tires, Will and Carlee were hooking up the car up to the rent-a-tow truck to be charted away from the scrap yard and taken home. The young adult was practically dancing with joy while her father was laughing in amusement as he made sure the locks were in place before moving over to drive the truck while she would drive his car back.

While the car, on the other hand, vented in relief.

Smokescreen had to admit it but he was definitely grateful for the human girl that just rescued him, and in the nick of time. He had come way too close to being destroyed in a very embarrassing way. He would have rathered having his spark extinguished in a battle with a Decepticon than have a human crush him into a block of metal any day.

Now hopefully the human would she was doing when she began repairing him like she said she was going to do.

Because once he was fixed, he was so taking off to find the others. It was killing him not knowing where they were or if they were safe. Especially Optimus. He prayed to Primus that his long time hero was okay.