Song of the Fallen
Chapter 4: A Day in the Life
"Blah blah" –Transformer talking in car mode
Blah blah –thinking
'Blah blah' –Cybertronian and private links.
Transformers ain't mine
Dea Barr is.
Light Note: This chapter lets you see a bit more into the home life of Dea, so I'm warning you now… Things aren't so pretty. Another minor time skip… Other than that, I'd like to say that Two Girls Too Much isn't my top priority, and that I'm working on this whenever I can, but life likes to throw me a lot of snags, and when you're a cat who's a bit claw happy, you find a LOT of snags… More than you'd think.
The sound of the car driving off was wonderful, and Dea rose to mark off the night before on her calendar. She scowled and realized that in a few days she'd have to deal with that disgusting holiday known as Valentine's Day, "Well I feel sorry for Bee, but there's no way I'm hanging with the love birds on D-Da—er V-day." She laughed stupidly at her own joke and threw off the covers, pulling on some socks as she rose to the bathroom.
The red head clipped back her bangs and grabbed her toothbrush and brushed her teeth, then washed it with mouthwash, then flossed. After that ritual was complete, she started down the stairs into the kitchen and grabbed a bowl and her favorite cereal. She poured a small amount and complimented it with some milk from the fridge. Snatching a spoon from the drawer on her way back up to her room, the girl shifted through her memory of what shirts were clean and what ones were dirty.
She munched on her breakfast as she got her backpack ready, putting in what books she would need for the day. She opened her closet and grabbed a pair of dark wash straight jeans, then walked over to her dresser as she threw the pants on the bed. Grabbing a bite off the bowl on the top of the dresser, she opened it up, grabbed a black Rolling Stones t-shirt, and let it join the pants on the bed.
Finishing her breakfast, the girl left the bowl on her dresser and went into the bathroom to shower and get dressed. When she was finished, she put on black eye liner and went back into her room. Dea grabbed a pair of discarded socks, slipped them on, shoved her Vans onto her feet and then pulled on a blue Ninja Turtles hoodie with Leonardo's face on the back. Her cell was pocketed and she turned on her iPod, sticking the headphones in her ears and turning it up loud; today's song was Thunder by Girls like Boys. As her head bobbed to the music, she pulled on her backpack and flew down the stairs to the front door as an engine revved.
The smile she had when she opened the door fled her face as she saw the hologram of Sideswipe looking fearfully up at her father who was red in the face, "Father? What are you still doing here? I heard you leave—" she stopped herself when her father glared at her.
"I forgot to grab my damn lunch. You didn't leave it in the right spot." He glanced at the car and she knew what he was thinking, If your friend wasn't here…
She spun on her heels into the kitchen and retrieved it, not even caring to note that it was indeed where it was supposed to be, and ran back. Dea forced on a smile as she handed it to him and stepped out onto their porch so she could close and lock the door. Her father huffed and headed for his car, managing another glare at Sideswipe before getting in and driving off. Dea fell against the door and gripped her left hand so it would stop shaking and she could get the key in the lock.
As she turned around, she mustered up her fake smile and bounded down the steps to Sides, "Alright, let's get this show on the road!" The red corvette popped open it's passenger side, and Dea gave a wry smile, "Awe, I don't get to drive?" She giggled as she got in, and Sideswipe's engine rumbled low concern. Dea looked over at the hologram of him – a man about a couple years older than her with a red spiked fohawk and slightly yellow eyes – and gave her best look of innocence, "What?"
"Your heart rate is through the roof, do you need to see a human doctor?" he asked, the hologram's face contorting into a frown, "Or maybe we should take you to Ratchet?" Dea slammed her hand on the dashboard, "OUCH! Hey!"
She glared, "Shut up and drive. Don't make me hotwire you again." He sensed that there was more to the situation at hand, but for right now the best thing to do was to get the human girl to school. That being said, Sides backed out of the driveway and started them towards the Tranquility High.
"Dea—"
"No questions. Just drive."
The school seemed to take forever to come into view, and Sides wasn't 'forgetting about it' like Dea kept telling him to. Her fingers were drumming on her leg, and she couldn't keep her music player on one song for more than a few minutes. She kept glancing at her fingers, then to the side window, then back to her fingers, not making eye contact with Sideswipe throughout the whole drive as he tried to bring up some casual conversation.
Finally, when Dea thought she couldn't handle any more of him going on about how human weather was so temperamental in some places, she saw the high school. The red head unlocked the door and threw it open, "Just let me out here!" she cried as she bolted from the cab, making a run for a large group of girls that were flagging her down.
Sides idled for a few seconds to watch Dea, concern not a good enough word at this point.
See, the typical morning for Dea was getting picked up in the morning by one of the various Transformers that occupied the base and had taken a liking to her. Then they'd reach the school, and Dea would have them slow down and roll her window down so all the other school kids could see her in the awesome car that drove her to school that day. Then she'd get out, blow a kiss to the hologram, then go up to Mikaela and the two would start gossiping about who Dea's new 'boy toy' was.
Apparently the two thought it was absolutely hilarious that Dea was being portrayed as a whore by the popular crowd, and they were playing off of that.
Dea glanced back at him and made a shooing motion with her hand, then turned back around with a big smile plastered on her face. She giggled at someone's joke, but for the life of her, Dea couldn't remember the blonde's name. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Sam, and inconspicuously slipped away from the pack of girls to jog over to her brother figure.
"Hey!" she waved, a bit out of breath from all the running she was doing, "Where's Mikaela?" Sam nodded his head toward the school.
"Bathroom. She was in a hurry this morning…" he frowned and shuffled his feet, and Dea cocked a brow. A sudden brain child was born, and Dea tried to wipe the grin from her face. She was failing miserably too…
Laughing, she clapped him on the shoulder, "You just made a rookie mistake! That's all." He sighed and rolled his eyes, "Future reference, don't say anything about how weird she looks without makeup."
He gave her a weak glare, "Gee… Thanks!"
The two exchanged a look and started laughing. She smiled and played with her iPod, sifting through her music absently. The male watched her for a few seconds then cleared his throat so she'd look up. When he had her attention, he wrapped her up in a big hug, picking her up off the ground and spinning her. Dea couldn't help but squeal and giggle as she was spun, stumbling slightly when he put her back down.
When her laughing subsided, she gave him a questioning look, "What was that for?"
"Whatever's wrong, you know I'm here for you right?" His look of worry gave a shock to her system. Mikaela came up beside her, "Hey you!" Sam said, giving his girlfriend a hug. Dea shook the feeling from her stomach and pulled Mikaela from Sam, like she always did, and into her own hug.
"She's MINE!"
Sam grinned, "Nu-uh she's MINE!" He grabbed her waist and yanked the brunette from Dea's hold, wrapping his arms around her waist.
Mikaela groaned, "Now don't start this again!" She gave Dea a whiny look, which was rightfully ignored as she was, yet again, yanked from one person to the other, "Oh come on!"
The warning bell signaled the end of Dea and Sam's torture, and – for once – Mikaela's savior. The three friends parted ways, Sam to math, Dea to science, and Mikaela to art. This would be the only class period that had apart, for this set of days anyway. The next set they had basically all classes together as well. (the two sets were oh so cleverly called A days and B days.)
Dea frowned and dragged herself and her backpack to her locket, emptying the books she wouldn't need and grabbed her science book, kicking her locker shut with the back of her foot as she shoved her bag into while running down the near empty hallway. She skidded to a halt, narrowly missing slamming her head into a corner, then started running again, "No no no no don't you do it!" she cried as she ran into the science wing, but the bell didn't listen, ringing the nanosecond before she opened the door.
The teacher turned and frowned, "Ah, Miss Barr so glad you could join us this fine day." He gave her the 'I won't be nice next time' look as she took her seat, and he quickly started the lesson.
She sighed, the scene playing before her similar to yesterday, and the day before, and the day before. The teachers are going 'blah blah blah' and the students are going 'blah blah blah' and neither is paying attention to the other, which results in a loud mesh of people 'blah blah blah-ing.' Dea lifted her head from her desk, giving the paper she'd been doodling on a fond look before shoving them into her binder.
With only five minutes left for class, they were allowed to talk and do whatever as long as they stayed away from the door. Which was amusing to Dea, as they already did whatever they wanted and stayed away from the doors. The red head leaned back in her chair, popping her back and drawing out her cell phone. She blinked and cocked her head when she noticed a new text message, "How did I not feel that?"
The brunette girl sitting next to her gave her a funny look, before turning away slowly to laugh at something her friend said – or at Dea, though she could really care less. Dea furrowed her brows at the number, trying to remember if it was one of the Autobots she hadn't added to her address book yet and clicked the button that would open the text. With her free hand, she scratched the side of her neck that was being tickled by a stray hair.
"What in the world?" she muttered under her breath, staring at the text. Dea closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, then opened her eyes again to see that yes someone had indeed just sent her a text of just random letters and numbers. She had a brainstorm and decided she would forward it to Ratchet, "Papa will figure it out. And Bob's my uncle if he doesn't." Her head lifted as the bell rang, "Even though that doesn't quite make sense…" Picking up her backpack and slinging it over one shoulder, she entered the loud hallway and tried to make her way to her locker. She shoved past a group of jocks and yelled a loud excuse me to the group of skaters taking root in front of her locker, finally opening it with an angry sigh and eye roll.
She stripped off her jacket and shoved it, along with her backpack, into her locker, slamming it shut and giving the skaters a look, "NOW you can congregate in front of my locker." They rolled their eyes at her in unison, and she thought for a brief second about how they all probably thought that they were so different from the masses before weaving her way through the crowd to reach outside.
Stretching her arms up, she noted that she was getting a few looks – jacketless in February even in Nevada was a little weird – but she shrugged it off when she saw the yellow and black Camaro roll up. As the window rolled down, Bee's hologram pulled down its sunglasses, "Ready for lunch?" She opened the passenger door and slid in.
"To Taco Bell!" She cried, extending her right arm out the open window as she did. Bee's engine rumbled in laughter, and they pulled out of the parking lot – past Sam and Mikaela who were busy being lovey dovey on an outside table. Dea pursed her lips as she pulled her seat belt on, turning her body so she could pull her knees up to her body comfortably, "I really wish I didn't have to go back to school."
Bee turned to look at her, "Why? School seems like it would be fun."
"This coming from one of the intelligent beings from outer space that can download the freaking internet," Dea sighed, her head drooping slightly. Bee chuckled and pulled into the drive through for Taco Bell.
"The usual?"
"The usual."
As Bee idled, waiting for his turn to order, Dea played with the hem of her shirt, contemplating on whether her punishment for skipping out on her punishment would be worse than her original punishment. So far neither option seemed like a good idea, and just as she was about to join skipping out on her punishment for skipping out on her punishment to the party of options, Bee's hologram cleared his throat, and she snapped to attention.
She handed the guy at the window her money, then waited patiently, leaning over the hologram and trying to make it look like she wasn't going through him. The male handed her the food first, and she placed it in her lap as she got her change with her free hand – ignoring the strange look he kept giving the two of them. They pulled away from the window, and Dea cracked a smile, "I really think it would make more sense if I drove."
"No chance. I heard about what you did to Sideswipe." He said, glancing over at her warily.
She shrugged and took a bite of her food, "I was desperate. I don't normally go around hotwiring Autobots I haven't had the chance of terrorizing normally."
Bee glared over at her playfully and revved the engines as he pulled out into the street, "Oh? So you'd be more likely to hotwire the ones you already have?" She laughed and purposefully ignored his question as she opened her bag and began munching on her supposedly Mexican food. Bumblebee slowed for a moment, at a loss for words to go along with Dea's lack of them, but pulled up to normal speed when the old lady behind them began to honk her horn impatiently.
The rest of her day proceeded without too much complaint. Sure, there was the instant in math when Dea got a different answer than the teacher and they argued over who was right for a half an hour. And the minor scrap in Spanish class when somebody said that the Spanish were stupid for making the word for penis so close to the word for comb – it was true, sure, but Dea would be damned if she let people insult half of what made her up. But now it was after school, and whatever happened that day was forgotten as she lumbered into the yellow twin known as Sunstreaker for the few minutes of peace she had left before dooms day.
"Dea are you alright?" Sunny asked as he drove out of the parking lot only to stop again as they waited for the traffic of then many driving teenagers to get up to speed. The red head undid the clips that were keeping her bangs out of her eyes and pulled her fingers through them. His hologram – a exact reverse of his brother's; blonde spiked fohawk with slightly red eyes – looked at her, but pushed his shades up before she could see him looking, "You know, I had to fight Sides for the privilege of driving you home," he chuckled, "It was between me, him, and Red Alert. We were both tempted to let him go!"
She glanced away and snorted, unwillingly playing out the idea of Red Alert coming to pick her up from school, "Yeah, but knowing Sam he wouldn't recognize him and would have a heart attack because he'd think something was wrong with me!" Gripping her stomach as she tried to refrain from laughter, she now imagined Sam having a conniption fit in a hospital because she wasn't on the patient's list.
Sunny grinned, "Then we'd REALLY have to get Red Alert!" Dea couldn't contain herself, and leaned over the edge of her seat as her face split into a grin and laughter burst from her lungs, "Glad I could make you smile. Sides said you seemed a little weird this morning. Just our luck, Ratchet overheard and it took Optimus saying it might be an 'adolescent humanoid' thing before he let it go."
Pushing back some strands of hair, she sighed and snuggled into her seat, "Yeah, well you just made my day, so feel extra happy." She glanced over at the hologram with a slight grin, "An 'adolescent humanoid' thing huh? I should remember that in case my Tía Teresa tries to have another 'family talk time' with me." She snorted and leaned into the backseat to pull a water bottle from her back pack, taking a swig before dropping it into the cup holder by her left hand.
"Glad I'm glad I could make you smile, and make your day." His hologram grinned at the road as he merged into another lane, "I'm pretty good at multitasking for a mech!"
She smiled and twisted the cap of her water bottle loose, then shut again, and repeated the action as she spoke, "And how."
Sunny pulled into the driveway since Dea's dad wasn't home yet, and the engine cut, leaving the two in silence, the girl's hand poised on the door handle. Her eyes were boring holes into her front door as she considered skipping out on her punishment, and with a small tug, the door popped open, "Well I better get started on my chores so I can have lots of time to do my homework!" She stepped out and pulled her backpack on, "Later skater."
The yellow corvette's engine revved up, "Later alligator," he replied, the windows tinting as the hologram flickered away. She gave him a lazy wave, and watched him pull out of the drive way and turn right, heading for the Autobot base before she spun on her heel and jumped up the steps to stand in front of her door. She pulled her key from the other pocket and slipped it into the lock, turning it until she heard the lock click and opening the door.
"I'm home…" she called to the empty living room, dropping her backpack to the floor and ditching her shoes, not before tapping the front door once after she kicked it shut. She placed her shoes together and picked them up, rushing upstairs to her room. She had a good five hours before her dad would get home, and there were a few things that Dea wanted to get done that involved her father not being home. She pulled her phone from her back pocket and flipped it open, going through the names in her address book until she came upon the name she needed, "Ratchet…"
She pressed the call button and put the phone to her ear, grabbing a bag of chips as she listened the ringing. After a few chips were already in her mouth, there was a click and she could hear Ratchet's voice on the other line, "Hello?"
"Ratchet!" Dea exclaimed, losing some chips and causing her to blush a good red. She covered her mouth and chewed her food, then swallowed it and a drink of water before attempting to talk again, "Forget that ever happened."
There was a slight pause, as if the medic was wondering if he knew what he was supposed to be forgetting, which was confirmed by the confused tone in which he answered, "Okay?"
The red head nodded and chirped, "Okay! So the reason that I called you was that I got a really weird text message, and I had a random brain child that it might be some cool awesome computer code, so I wanted to see if you could use your amazing skills to DEcode it." She moved her hips from side to side as she waited, daring to munch on a few more chips.
He didn't answer at first, and she replayed what she said in her head in the case that she was speaking in super speak again, as it wouldn't have been the first time, and he needed a few seconds to slow it down and comprehend it, "I don't see why not."
Her face lit up in a smile and she did a mini tango dance around her kitchen, "Thanks! I'll show you tomorrow when I come." She could see the neon yellow mech vent his systems in a sigh, his shoulders and head drooping as he shook his head, one hand rubbing his temple.
"Alright then Dea."
On Ratchet's end, he heard the click of the line going dead, and heaved another sigh. Red Alert snickered lightly, and the medic turned to face his comrade, "Does something amuse you, Red Alert?"
The other waved his hand as if brushing away the unspoken dangerousness of the question, "I was just admiring how you've mellowed out since taking up the human girl's role of father." He gave the other a side glance, "Especially since there is no real need to. She has a father after all." Ratchet's hand hovered toward his wrench, "Just stating a fact."
"Yes, well that doesn't deem it necessary." Ratchet mumbled as he resumed fixing up the arm of new Autobot who'd crash landing had been a bad one.
Red Alert cleared his vocal processor and turned back around, "I suppose not."
Back on Dea's end however, things weren't as calm. A car door slammed signaling the arrival of her father, and Dea froze in her spot in the kitchen. He was home early. That wasn't a good sign. Dea shook herself from her daze and busied herself cleaning some of the dishes that were in the sink, not even checking to see if they were clean or dirty. She heard the front door open and click shut, followed by her father's image in the kitchen doorway.
"Dea." He said curtly, moving past her to the fridge, where he pulled out a beer and popped it open, chugging it as he undid his tie, "School?"
The red head scratched at something stubborn on a plate, replying nonchalantly, "Great. Work?"
"Fine. Dinner?"
"Steak."
This is what a conversation had become between her father and Dea. One word questions, one word answers. There were no stories to tell anymore, no 'Daddy let me sit on your lap!' and no 'I love you' anymore.
She relaxed when the television clicked on, the Spanish channel blaring back to her. Moving from the fridge, she grabbed a pack of steaks from the freezer, and put them in the empty side of the sink, running hot water over them to help with the defrosting process. She pushed some hair behind her ear and sighed.
It wasn't like she really minded the lack of contact anymore. It'd been happening for a while, even before her mother died. He'd been out of sorts then, and now…well now he was just gone. And Dea had stopped trying to catch up. It wasn't worth wasting her time trying to catch a ghost.
Plugging up the sink, the red head watched the water fill up slowly, then pulled herself away to grab some corn from the freezer, and a few potatoes from the fridge. Her hand slapped down on the faucet lever and the water cut off. Dea opened a drawer and grabbed the peeler, quickly working on removing the spuds of their skin.
In her father's eyes, she was no longer his daughter, but just something to be used to make his life easier. When her mother had first died, and this had all started, Dea had often fantasized about being a princess, or a damsel in distress, and some hot guy would come bursting into her house, 'slay' her father and steal her away into the night. But when that never happened, she gave up and resigned to her fate.
There was no prince to save her, no castle to flee to.
Because in reality, it hurt Dea to be this nameless face that she'd become. But to her, that was much better than not being needed. Aside from her, her father didn't have anyone else to take care of him.
She was all he had. Right?
Sam burst out into the sunshine, pumping his arms into the air as he stretched. Mikaela chuckled as she watched her boyfriend enjoy the outdoors before glancing around. She had just got out of History with Dea and Sam, and she could have sworn the three had been walking together, but… "Maybe she already left for Taco Bell." The brunette mumbled aloud to herself, causing the male to spin around to face her.
"What was that?" he asked, scratching his head and making his way back to her side. She slipped her arm through his and sighed, the two starting for their usual lunch table.
"I was just thinking that Dea must already be on her way to Taco—" she careened to a stop at the sight of the goldenrod Camaro, waiting patiently in the parking lot. Now, this wouldn't have been such a strange sight if Dea hadn't adopted a habit of going with Bee to Taco Bell everyday at lunch. And we're talking every day here. How she didn't get sick of it, Mikaela could never grasp. But nonetheless, there he was sitting patiently waiting for Dea to come bounding to his side demanding 'nourishment' if you could call fast food that, "Ah, well then maybe she's in the bathroom or something… I mean, there's no way she'd skip out on Taco Bell."
The brunette male nodded his head, not seeing the problem quite as clearly, or irrationally maybe, as his girlfriend was, "Yeah, it's like a religious 'Foodist' thing, or whatever she calls herself." Mikaela nodded, "Yeah, Foodists never skip out on Taco Bell for lunch. I mean… She'll be there." It seemed, though, that just talking to Mikaela about something going wrong made him think that something was wrong, and when he started to lead them over to Bee, she didn't seem to complain in the least.
"Hey!" Mikaela greeted the car, "Have you heard from Dea yet? Did she say she was going to be late, or in the bathroom or…" she trailed off, rotating her wrist as she tried to think like Dea and come up with something that would keep the red head's attention off of Taco Bell, "Or she was going to stalk some uber hottie…? Anything like that?"
Bee's engine revved in a displeased tone, "She's not in the school building anymore." Sam took a moment to choke on his spit, "Her father took her as the three of you were leaving the classroom." Mikaela blinked, and shifted her weight onto her foot.
"Oh, well if it's her dad, then there's nothing to be worried about! Right?" Mikaela chirped. Bee didn't respond, so the female pressed on, "Right?"
The Camaro roared to life and popped open it's doors, "Maybe we should go for a drive…"Sam was about to protest about school, but then decided against it and pulled himself into the passenger seat, Mikaela sitting herself in the front with a dominating air. She wasn't liking where this was going. Clicking her seatbelt on, the car roared to life and backed out of his parking spot – gaining a few angry honks from other driving teens trying to escape the lot – peeling out onto the road at a high speed.
"It seems that ever since a confrontation with Dea's father early yesterday when Sideswipe came to pick her up, Dea has been acting strangely." Bee took a sharp right, and Mikaela winced when she was thrown against the door, "I have suspicions that with Dea's father isn't the safest place she could be right now…" The couple exchanged worried glances. The brunettes looked at the speedometer on the dash.
Mikaela frowned and drew her brows down, "You know where she is right?"
"Affirmative. We're heading to Dea's location now." Bumblebee replied curtly. She nodded and glanced out the window.
"Think you can get away with going faster?"
Bee didn't answer at first, but before Mikaela could repeat herself, the Camaro revved and switched gears, making her lean back slightly from the force, "I thought you'd never ask." Tires squealed as they sped around a corner and through quite a few red lights, finally slowing down when they saw the familiar surroundings of the suburbs Dea and Sam lived in. They idled themselves down the street, and stopped a few houses down, Mikaela leaning forward in her seat when her eyes caught sight of Dea resisting a painful looking tight hold on her upper arm.
By none other than her father.
"Bee, can you amplify the sound of their voices so we can hear what their saying without blowing out cover?" the female asked, leaning down. Bumblebee tinted the windows and pulled back a bit.
"Of course. It will take me a few—"
"Let GO I said!" Dea's voice rang from the stereo, the fear in her voice registering to the two clearly. They saw the smack before they heard it, and Sam closed his eyes and turned away from the sight of Dea's free hand reaching up to hold her reddening cheek.
Her father scowled at her, looking as if she was devil spawn, "You insolent girl! Don't defy me." His voice took on a dangerous tone, and Dea tried again to pull herself free, "Get in the house. Now."
The redhead, however, paid no heed to the tone and continued to try and pry her arm from her father's grip, "NO! I didn't do anything this time! Why are you doing this?" She was pulled forward, and fell to the ground when he finally released her arm. She winced and looked down at her scraped palms, before remembering her situation and tried to scramble away from him.
With quick movement, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her up, ignoring her yelp of pain, "You didn't do anything? Don't make me sick!" He threw her towards the house, and Dea stumbled but remained standing, "Everything that's ever been wrong in my life has been because of you!" Dea, who was now out of their view because of the neighbor's tree, made a surprised noise when her father started toward the house, "In, now!"
Mikaela tapped repeatedly on the steering wheel, "Scoot! Scoot scoot scoot up!" Bee obliged happily, and pulled forward until the girl was in view again. She was once again being herded toward the house, her father gripping her upper arm like she was some criminal. Of course, Sam supposed, in his eyes she probably was…
They waited a few minutes after the door had closed to pull up closer to the house again. Mikaela got herself out and stared with painfully sad eyes at the house. She wanted to run up and barge in, but what could she do to help? She didn't think she and Sam could take him, and Bee would make too much of a ruckus. But…Dea could handle herself right? I didn't do anything…this time? Mikaela hugged herself at the thought of this happening to her friend on a daily basis.
Sam touched her shoulder, and she pulled herself into his arms, "Sam…Isn't there something we can do?" Covering her mouth with one hand, and pressing her face into her boyfriend's shoulder, she couldn't see the furious glare on his face, "Can all we do is sit here and wait this time?"
"Yeah."
The anger he was feeling, the spitefulness he was feeling, the hopelessness… all seeped out into that one word, and with a hiccup, Mikaela started to cry…
Sam didn't know how much later it was when Dea reappeared in the front yard. Bruised, and in some places bloody, she stumbled out onto the porch, catching herself on the side of the house before she fell. She looked around the street, her eyes widening when she recognized the familiar yellow Camaro and the two humans sitting inside him. He nudged Mikaela awake, and the two brunettes rushed out to their friend, "Dea! Are you alright?"
Mikaela wrapped her up in a hug, but Dea didn't seem to notice. She pushed the other girl off her and started down the steps, grabbing onto Sam's shoulder when her knees gave out on her, "Hey!" he said as he caught her, lifting her up bridal style. Jerking his head to the Camaro, his girlfriend nodded and ran to get the back ready for Dea to sit in. Sam joined her and situated Dea in the back of the Camaro, using his jacket as a pillow for her head.
Slipping themselves into the front seats, Sam addressed Bee with a serious tone, "We need to go to the base. Now." Bee peeled out instantly, already ready to go once he saw the condition Dea was in. Dea groaned lightly and pulled herself up until the two of them noticed. Sam turned around as he clicked on his seat belt, "Lay back. I'm not taking no for an answer. You have no say this time so it's best to just listen to me."
She shook her head and reached her arm out until she grasped onto Mikaela's shirt sleeve, "Don't…tell anyone… what you saw."
"Dea that's ridiculous. You're dad is—" Mikaela started, but Dea cut her off by yanking on her sleeve. She gave Dea a scowl, but the red head glared right back, "This is so stupid. Why are you protecting him?"
Dea lowered her gaze, but didn't detour from the subject at hand, "Promise…"
"Dea—"
"PROMISE!" she shouted, regretting it instantaneously when her chest flared up in pain and she fell back with a moan, her breathing heavy. Mikaela's breath caught in her throat. Dea took a moment to catch her lost breath, then repeated once again, "Promise."
Mikaela turned away from her friend, her brow drawn down and her expression pained, "Fine… Fine! I promise. We won't tell…" Silence filled the voice, the only sound was Dea's breathing returning to normal. After that, they drove on – Bee picking up speed after the quarrel was over – the lack of sound basically deafening.
Finally Dea spoke again, her voice quiet and startling the other teens, "I'm sorry you had to see that." She opened and closed her fists, "I would have preferred if you didn't know about it. It makes things a lot easier for me."
"When did it start?" Sam asked, not looking away from the road. The sun was starting to set, and he had yet to call home, not to mention skipping class. He was so grounded, but could really care less in light of the current situation.
Dea ran a hand through her matted hair, wincing when her fingers tore through the knots, "A little while after my mom died. He never used to be like this… But…" Not knowing what to do with herself, she picked at the dirt under her nails, "You know, my mom and I wouldn't have gone to downtown if I hadn't persuaded her to come shopping with me." Mikaela turned to look out the window as she listened, propping her elbow on the door and her face in her palm.
"I think that's why he's so angry with me…" Dea continued, "He feels like it's my fault, and in a way he's right. Sure, it's not like I pushed her into it or anything like that… I was just the only reason we were there." She laced her fingers together and sighed, "So no matter how much it hurts… I think he's justified." She looked down at her lap and could feel their eyes on her.
"Dea, that's a sad way of looking at something like that. You're dad may not have always been like this, but he is now and if he's going to take something that was a one in a million chance thing out on you, then I think he's sick," Mikaela snapped, her voice hardened with anger, "I don't want to hear anymore about it until we get to the base… And maybe not even then…" She sighed and rolled down the window, letting fresh air into the cab, "I just don't know what to think right now."
Smiling slightly, the red head settled herself in, watching the sun dipped below the horizon as the surroundings flashed past them in a blur, "That's understandable… I'm… I'm still sorry."
"I know… So are we," Sam replied, glancing back at her with a comforting smile, "We love you, and just don't like seeing you get hurt. Okay?"
Dea paused and studied Sam's expression, "Okay."
A frown encompassed, not only Ratchet's, but Optimus's face as well as the two looked upon Dea's face. Or more precisely, the black swelling bruise that surrounded the female's right eye, "Would you believe me if I told you some chump tried to jack my money?" When the medic's engine revved lowly, she knew that this was a time for honest explanation and not beating around the bush.
However, the red head smiled and scratched the top of her head, making herself believe her words so Ratchet couldn't peg her for lying to him. If she believed it to be true, it was true in her eyes, "Alright, so I might have started a fight with a prep girl at school today… No big deal! Totally kicked her ass," she turned on her heel and was about to head toward the mess hall when the medic's large hand scooped her up.
"I don't think so, Dea. I'm going to give you a scan and see what else is damaged," Ratchet explained firmly, telling her there was no room for debate. He would scan with or without consent of the other party. Dea had been smart enough to borrow Sam's jacket to cover up the marks on her arms, and the ones they assumed were on her legs were covered by her pants. The only thing they couldn't cover up were the scratches and bruises on her face.
Her right eye was swollen and black, her bottom lip was sliced down the middle, and the upper on the right side. There were a few deep gashes mixed in with smaller ones at a diagonal angle from her left eye to her jaw bone.
Mikaela had absently wondered how Dea had been able to cover up the marks so well, since the girl never missed a day of school. And if this happened on a regular basis like she thought it did, that meant Dea must be a ninja make up wizard. She frowned and rubbed at her arm absently. Sam and herself had sworn themselves to silence, figuring that if Ratchet asked them about it, if they didn't say anything, then there was no way he could peg them for lying.
At least that was their general idea, but staying quiet on the subject was becoming more and more difficult as Ratchet scanned Dea's form. An angry rumble came from the medic's vocal processor, and the couple looked worriedly at each other. It was time to test their theory. The grumpy mech looked down at Dea in his hand, "You're situation, and unwillingness to tell me what really happened – because I know you're lying Dea – can only suggest one thing, and I don't really like that idea very much." She swallowed the spit her nervousness had created, and tried to smile up at him.
"And that is?" her voice managed to remain at it's normal perkiness, and Ratchet had to perform another scan to double check that Dea was in fact nervous.
Instead of answering Dea, he turned to the couple and asked them simply, "What happened to Dea?" Sam and Mikaela glanced away, their theory in their minds; if they didn't say anything he wouldn't know they were lying.
Of course, they didn't factor in that he'd figure out they were covering for her, "It's as I thought then. Dea my findings indicate that you're being physically and mentally tortured on an almost regular basis. I'm not sure how my initial scans of you missed such damage to your body, but nevertheless I think it'd be best if you were to stay in the base until we can apprehend the person doing this to—"
"NO!"
Dea's scream of protest not only surprised the medic, but Dea herself as well. Her hand flew to cover her mouth and tears started to build up at the corners of her eyes, "Dea?" Ratchet prompted warily, "Who is the one abusing you?" He frowned when she clamped her mouth shut, inwardly cursing herself for her outburst. Wasn't being saved what she'd always wanted? Why was she acting like this? "If he's someone you know, then we won't turn him in to the authorities, we'll just remove you from the surroundings."
"Oh GEE!" the female drawled, "You won't turn him in, thaaanks. That makes me feel so much better! You don't get it Ratchet!" Her temper was flaring up, and no amount of breathing was going to calm her down. Every breath she took just added to the flame of anger she was building within her heart, and it wouldn't go out until it was done burning everything around her to a crisp, "YOU WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND HOW I FEEL!"
Ratchet's temper rose up in response, but his calmer and a lot more concentrated, "You're right. I don't understand, but why don't you try to explain it to me first before you start irrationally yelling at me?" She flinched from the hidden venom. The medic had never spoken to her this way. Even when he was reprimanding her for something she (and the twins sometimes) had done, it was with an undertone of love. He was doing it because he cared, but this…
"I'm all he has! No one else can stand him now, but I'm used to it! I know how to deal with his moods, I know how to—"
He interrupted her with a burst of yelling, "DEAL WITH HIS MOODS? THIS is how you DEAL with his moods?" He glared down at her in his hand, and her eyes grew wide again, allowing a few fresh tears freedom, "Well I must say you're not doing a very good job of it."
Ratchet made a noise in his throat when something about Dea's demeanor changed. She drew her hands up under her chin, and her knees bent inward slightly, and kept doing so until she slipped into a sitting position on his hand, with her feet on either side of her butt, "Daddy…" she hiccupped, but Ratchet didn't make any movements, something telling the mech she wasn't referring to him this time, "Why doesn't Daddy love Deeja anymore? Mommy loves Deeja, she doesn't blame Deeja… so why? Why does Daddy not love her?"
Sam's brow creased with confusion written clearly on his face, his girlfriend's a mirror image of his own, "Who's Deeja?" Mikaela pursed her lips, and scratched her neck in thought.
"Do you think Dea has multiple personality disorder or something?" she pondered, and Ratchet looked down at her, wondering the exact same thing. Deciding on something, she flagged Ratchet down, "Beam me up Scotty!" Sam mouthed 'Star Trek?' with a dorky smile as Ratchet lowered his other hand for Mikaela to clamber up on. Bringing the two girls to the same level, Mikaela approached the crying 'Deeja' with caution, "Hi…"
She looked up, and wiped at her tears, trying to look a little more presentable to the female, "Um.. Hi…" As the younger sounding girl tried to keep herself from crying, she worked her lower jaw side to side before speaking again, "I'm Deeja."
"I'm Mikaela. Do you know me?" Deeja shook her head and the brunette looked up at Ratchet's face, "I think I'm right… Deeja," Mikaela looked back at the girl who was supposed to be her best friend, '"Are there others like you?"
"Un! There's Dea too. And Miss Bossy. She's mean to Deeja all the time." Her eyes filled with sadness, "But Dea doesn't feel like talking to anybody right now, she's not feeling well… So Deeja let Dea rest." Mikaela frowned, wondering how her friend had hidden such a strange quirk from her. Then she remembered the other secret Dea had been keeping and wasn't so surprised. She muffled her bitterness over the subject with another question.
"Is Dea aware you exist Deeja?" she inquired slowly as she lowered herself closer to the body of her best friend, "Does Dea know you take over sometimes?" Deeja nodded a few times in rapid succession. Mikaela heard Ratchet exhale deeply and mumble about how this would explain a few things. The brunette jerked her head to get the medic's attention.
When he lowered his head to indicate he was listening, Mikaela smiled to Deeja – as if addressing them both – "Maybe Sideswipe should take Deeja somewhere quiet. To let Dea calm down so she can come out and talk to us about this. Okay?" Ratchet caught on to the drift and opened up a private conversation link to said red Corvette.
'Sideswipe, as much as I hate to say this, I need your help with Dea. It appears she has multiple personalities, and we need you to take her someplace quiet until Dea is ready to take control of her mind again.'
There was no answer at first, then smothered laughter, followed by a loud smack and Sunny's yelp of pain. Finally the medic heard Sides speak, 'Yeah, no problem. I'm in the general area, so I'll hurry over.' Obviously, the Corvette twins had been stalking out the med bay in secret, worry for their trouble making human partner. The proof to that statement was the twins entering the room not a few seconds after Ratchet had called him.
Sides rubbed his arm and ducked his face away from the smug looking Ratchet, "So where should I take her?" he addressed the question to Mikaela and Sam as a way to keep his head down. Ratchet simply crossed his arms and let his smile grow at Sideswipe's awkwardness that was so very rarely seen. The red Corvette was never timid like he was being now.
Sam spoke up immediately, "She likes to go to the lookout. Take her there." Mikaela smiled at her boyfriend, and he offered her a smile back, but both set of eyes were watching as Deeja was picked up by Sides and carried out of the med bay.
He set her down on the ground when they reached the outside and transformed, then popped open a door so she could climb into the passenger seat. When the door clicked shut, he waited until her seat belt was fastened before taking off down the road, the dust his tires kicked up forming a cloud that trailed behind them. Sideswipe didn't speak to her all through the trip there, and Deeja seemed to be content with the silence – sitting Indian-style in the seat, picking at the dirt under her nails and humming a children's song to herself.
It wasn't until he had pulled up to the lookout and the engine cut out that he spoke to her, "Dea, er…Deeja… I know Dea doesn't want to talk to anyone right now, but can you just tell her what I have to say?" He waited patiently until the small female nodded her head and shifted so that she was facing toward the driver's seat, "I know that you think that none of us could possibly understand how you feel; about being all that somebody has and not being able to leave them alone… But Dea… I know what it's like. Not being able to leave someone because they need you." He paused then, to let the transfer of words occur, or maybe just to gather his thoughts.
"Yeah, I maybe an Autobot, so I have all the others to lean on and to help me through things and such – just like having a family really – but in all reality, all I have is Sunstreaker. No one else comes close to the bond him and I share. I wouldn't be able to leave him alone to die or anything like that. And he couldn't leave me. It's the same way with a lot of us. We all have that one person that we can't abandon under any circumstance. Even if it means dying ourselves." Deeja's eyes drooped in sadness, and he was about to continue when her small meek voice cut him off.
"Sides…"
The Corvette let out a rev of his engine, in happiness and relief, at hearing Dea's voice and not that of the small child anymore, "Dea, we DO understand. So don't be mad, don't be angry… Just try to understand where we're coming from… Even we realize that sometimes leaving is for the best. But that's not saying that if the time came for us to choose dying together or surviving alone, we would always choose to be with that other person."
She pulled her face into her lap, hunching over in the passenger seat and shaking slightly. He heard the sniffling and knew that she had started to cry, "I know… I know I should but… I'm… I'm all he has! He's my dad and I'm all he has!" Her sobbing increased, and Sideswipe silenced his rebuttal. For know, just being here with her was the best he could do to help her. And so, he flicked on the radio, turning it up until Dea's sobs were drowned out.
If there was one thing he knew about Dea, it was that she didn't like to appear weak. So he would turn a blind eye to her outburst, and her crying, and he would pretend it never happened. If not for her sake, then for the sake of knowing that only one Autobot had the words that would soothe the red head's discomfort, and knowing that there was no way of him coming to her rescue again.
Dea snorted in her sleep, then rolled over to smack her alarm clock. Her brow furrowed when that action didn't make the noise she was hearing desist. Her eyes blinked open, and she looked at her room through a film of bangs as she tried desperately to start her brain up so she could identify the noise. As she did, the noise started to get louder, and as the seconds dragged on, it got louder still until Dea finally lurched forward – flinging the comforter off in the process – and leapt for her phone that was sitting on her desk.
Slightly breathless from the sudden action, and still mostly groggy, she wasn't surprised by her scratchy voice, "Hello?"
"Have you left for school yet?"
The red head's eyes flickered with recognition at the cold indifferent sounding voice, "No. Not yet."
Her father made a noise in the back of his throat, "Ah, well I'm just calling to tell you that I'll be gone starting tomorrow on a business trip."
"Ah, okay."
She heard the click of the phone line dying, and she pulled her phone away from her ear to stare at it in confusion. A business trip? Why would her dad—
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
Dea jumped and shrieked, whipping around with wide eyes to stare at her alarm clock that had just gone off. She crawled over and turned it off, then pulled herself out of bed to get ready for school.
She turned on her music as usual, opting for a lower volume that usual because of her nit picky neighbor. She fixed herself a bowl of cereal today, some chocolate puff balls Sam had insisted she tried sometime before she died. Munching on the food provided her with some distraction, but soon she was finished, dressed and ready to go less than an hour before one of the Autobots would show up to take her to school.
Huffing, she sat down on the couch and flipped her phone out, texting a few of her random class friends – asking stupid questions like if they were ready for the torture chamber, and how many brain cells they killed over the homework. She received a lot of 'lols' and quite a number of 'omg I know lyke im ttly dying!' answers, but Dea replied to each enthusiastically and with the same low level of grammar.
The red head was quite proud of being good at adapting to situations with a small amount of shock factor affecting her.
Before she knew it, she heard the familiar honking of the goldenrod-ish colored Camaro, which meant that she'd be riding with Mikaela and Sam to school this morning. She slung her backpack onto her shoulders and rushed out the door, locked it, and bolted for the car, making a show of sliding onto the passenger side via Bumblebee's hood. 'Satan's Camaro' revved his engine unhappily at Dea's show, but the two humans chortled with enthusiasm.
Mikaela exited the car long enough to let Dea in, and soon they were speeding down the road to school.
Sam paused in his ramblings of his uneventful night to nudge Dea's knee, "Hey, you okay? You look like a space cadet." Dea snorted, and Mikaela turned to the window with a smile, "What?"
"You're one to talk Mr. Captain Space Case," Dea explained, and the females – along with Bee – shared a laugh at the male brunette's expense.
He frowned and huffed, turning back to the road with a pouting face, "Yeah, yeah, yuck it up you three."
Dea giggled, and the three humans slipped into a peaceful conversation. Dea was still paranoid about the business trip her father had told her about, but suspicion was put aside and the red head opted for a peaceful day at school. Well, as peaceful as school can be anyway.
Her two friends were doing a good job at ignoring the events that had transpired the day before, and Dea appreciated that. It meant that nothing had changed. Although their knowledge did create unnecessary worry on her friend's part, Dea was still glad that there was one less secret that she would have to hid from the people who had become her adoptive family.
When the school came into sight, there was a collective groan from the three teenagers, followed by a low chuckle on Bee's part. Laughing quietly to herself as she emerged from the back of the Camaro, she marveled at the ordinary display of displeasure. It was really as if nothing had changed.
However, in reality something had.
In that one moment of weakness, in just admitting to herself that she shouldn't stay with her father because of who he'd become, she had set in motion the wheels of rebellion. It was just simple thoughts like, 'What if I didn't come home tonight?' and 'Would he worry about me if I stayed out past curfew?' No elaborate plans, no solidity to her thoughts. Just passing glimpses of what could be.
The 'what if's…' continued to plague her as the day drew on, Sam finally snapping her out of her self induced daze by dangling a chalupa from Taco Bell in front of her face.
She pulled her head back, her eyes growing a little wider and tried to focus on the object suddenly obscuring her vision, "Uhh…" Her brain began to process the item, and as the brain child was born, Dea squeaked in glee and grabbed at the food, "Chalupa!" Mikaela laughed and took a bite of her nachos, while Sam leaned back onto Bee's hood with his own chalupa.
Dea blinked and took a moment while she chewed to register her surroundings. Sometime between 'what if he doesn't even know I'm gone?' and 'what if he moves on once I leave?' her feet had made their way to the passenger side of Bumblebee's interior. She finished off the wanna-be Mexican food with ease, rubbing her stomach and silently wishing for another one. Sam handed her a Mountain Dew instead, which she readily took a few large gulps from.
"So what is the plan for after school?" Mikaela asked, only halfway through her taco.
The red head pursed her lips, "For the time being, I need to lay low." Sam cocked his head to the side, so she continued, "No going to the base for a while unless it's a dire necessity." The two brunettes nodded in understanding, and the silence resumed it's place over the three teens heads. Finally, right before the late bell rang, Bumblebee broke the silence, calling out to Dea.
"Do you still want Ratchet to decode that message you received?"
Sam and Mikaela exchanged confused looks, while Dea shook her head, replying with an affirmative answer despite the movement, "Yeah, just not right now though…. It can wait. Not like the text is really going anywhere."
"Very well. I'll inform Ratchet." Bee said, in a conversation ending sort of way. Dea nodded, then turned herself back around, leading her two friends to their classroom while she talked adamantly about the homework and how easy it was, completely missing the death glare Sam was playfully giving her.
As Mikaela took a seat in the back next to Sam, and Dea in the middle as per her assigned seat, the female whispered to her boyfriend, "Dea seems to be in a better mood."
Sam laughed, "Isn't she always after she eats?"
"Fair enough."
The maple door that stood before her seemed to tease her with its promise of escape, and as the form of her father slipped in her view and glared at her, "Thinking of going somewhere?" She shook her head and returned her attention to the computer screen of her laptop. Having just uncovered the thing from the remnants of what had been their shed, she was busy cleaning out the system of useless junk.
Her eyes flicked down to her thigh when she felt her side vibrate from her phone. Her stomach dropped, and she returned her attention to her computer, "Dad can you stir the sauce until I can get in there?" She heard her father grunt and move away from the door after a few minutes, followed by the sound of the spoon banging against the side of the pot.
She picked up her laptop and set it aside, standing and moving around the couch to make her way into the kitchen. Taking her father's place at the stove, she gave the tomato sauce a few stirs before removing it from the heat. She added it to a large pot of noodles and meat, and then stirred the mixtures. Dea blew a chunk of her hair out of her eyes as she opened up the cupboard to grab two plates.
As she dished out a serving of spaghetti for her father and two for herself since she didn't eat lunch that day, Dea frowned as she heard her phone buzzing again on the couch. Tossing the salad once before putting some on her father's plate, she grabbed two pieces of bread and walked into the dining room, "Do you want milk to drink Father?"
"No, get me a scotch on the rocks." He grumbled, picking up the fork she placed before him and began eating the noodles. Her smile dropped once she turned, and she tried to suppress a shiver as she reached for one of the bottles on a shelf above the sink. She reached into the cabinet next to her and pulled out a large but short glass, opening the freezer long enough to grab some ice. She poured the amber liquid into the glass and brought it back to her dad. He grunted his thanks, and Dea returned to the kitchen to finish getting her meal ready.
As she sat in the seat across from her father, he looked up at her, "Homework?"
"Finished. Work?" Dea asked back.
"Fine."
She nodded and went back to her food, munching on her salad that she had just drowned in ranch. Once her plate was clean, she stood and dumped her dishes into the sink, turning on the faucet so the plate could get a quick prewash. Her father came beside her and did the same, and Dea made her way to the couch again. Grabbing her cell phone and pocketing it, and closing her laptop and tucking it under her arm, Dea made her way up the stairs to hide in her room.
Her door clicked shut behind her, and the laptop was thrown carelessly onto the bed, followed by Dea falling beside it. It was too easy. She could leave once he went into his office and he'd never notice until tomorrow when he didn't have a lunch. Dea could be quiet, she had to be when he was in one of his moods, and she could just slip out and call Bee. He could come and pick her up and she'd never have to see this house ever again.
Never have to deal with her father's outbursts of anger, or the random moments when he tried to be her father again. The tensed conversation or the fake smiles, none of it! She could have a peaceful life finally, with Ratchet and Optimus, Bee, Sides and Sunny. No more worrying about any of that.
Dea lifted her head to stare at the door, then groaned and let it fall back onto her pillow.
And yet… Something was telling her not to. Something in her gut was telling her Not yet. We're not ready. Soon, but not now. The red head pulled herself up, grabbing the sweats from the edge of her bed and exchanging them for her pants. Flinging back the covers, she crawled into bed and opened her laptop.
For now, she would listen, and she would wait. But Dea could feel the restlessness that had been growing in her since the day she met Sam and Mikaela. There was something she felt she needed to do, and as she rubbed her left arm with a frown, she knew that her place was no longer here in this house.
But she would wait.
She had to wait.
Remembering the texts, she removed her cell phone from her pocket – already anticipating one of the texts – and flipped it open. One from Sam reading "Spanish homework, si? No?" to which she replied a quick, "Cha." The other was from her mystery number, who Ratchet - nor any of the Autobots – couldn't figure out the identity of. Letters and numbers had removed themselves, like they had the three days before this. Now she could slightly make out some of what was said.
Random stuff, need, more random stuff, and her name.
Dea frowned and closed the phone, then rolled her eyes as it buzzed right after. Opening it back up, she smirked when she read the text from Sam. He had put a smiley face and that text version of the heart, with the pointy doohickey and the three, and after two of those had put, "Can I borrow? Date with Mikaela, no time."
"You think she'd want him to pass his classes so he doesn't get grounded… And yet here this is. Again," the red head laughed to herself and replied that she'd give it to him tomorrow morning. Her face dropped and she erased what was written, exchanging it for, "Yeah, I'll give it to you at lunch." She closed the phone and plugged it into the charger, turning back to the open laptop sitting on her lap.
However, all her drive to revamping the device had fled from her, and with a defeated sigh, she closed it and set it on her nightstand next to her alarm clock, which she turned on since her hand was already over there. Snuggling under her covers, she clicked her lamp light off and closed her eyes, fighting to clear her mind so she could sleep.
See, Dea had just formulated a plan. A plan to find out what her father was really going to do. He worked in a cubicle; her father was a nobody in the company. Not somebody's go to guy or the business trip kind. And there was no way he got promoted without her knowledge, because she was the one who did his financial business, like her mother had done before her.
And tomorrow morning, bright and early…
She would act.
It was quite easy to just skip. Easier than Dea had expected it to be.
Really, all she had to do was have Ratchet call her in, saying that she needed him to do it because her dad was already gone and she didn't want to bother him, for fear of making him mad. The possibility of abuse gave him enough incentive to do it. Then she just had to wait for her father to drive off, get the keys for the other car – the one that had been her mother's that they'd yet to get rid off – and follow.
Hence, Dea was excused from school and in hot pursuit of her father. She frowned, one hand on the steering wheel, and the other picking at a corner of her wallet that she had thrown into the cup holder. She spared a glance at her surroundings – suburbs similar to her own new neighborhood – before flicking her gaze back to the silver Honda Civic her father drove. From the looks of it, Dea's hunch had been right and this was in no way, shape, or form a business trip.
Finding out what was really going on was going to take more observation, and so to calm her nerves, Dea turned the radio on low to the local country station, not really paying attention, but still managing to sing along to some of the songs. Finally he made a right, and Dea slowed severely before mimicking his movements, turning down the street that led into a sort of gated community, just without the gate.
Her frowned deepened when he made a left, and then turned left again into a drive way. She parked on a nearby corner, far enough away so as not to cause worry. Slouching down in her seat to further hide herself from view, Dea watched as her father got out of the car with a large grin encompassing his face. Her heart dropped when a woman came out from the house he'd parked in front of with a little boy (seven or eight at the most) situated on her hip.
At the sight of the man, the little boy began to squirm until his mother set him down on the front porch, from which he leapt up into Dea's father's arm. She could feel her heart sinking as he greeted the woman with a kiss and entered the house.
Even after the door was closed, Dea remained immobile. Frozen with fear as this knew knowledge wormed its way into previous circumstances with her father, making things that didn't make sense suddenly clear. She felt like she'd just been punched in the gut as all the air flew from her lungs. It was irrational to hyperventilate, to react like she was. The red head could have seen this coming from a mile away; had she chosen to accept the possibility that she wasn't the only person in her father's life.
Suddenly the 'what if's…' she'd been toying with the day before sprung back to life, one in particular sticking out in her mind.
What if he doesn't need me?
Dea pinched the bridge of her nose and curled herself up into a ball, rocking back and forth as her brain tried to slow things down enough to comprehend. That was turning out to be a lot harder than it needed too, but the petite girl did at least realize one thing.
Apparently he didn't need her.
Within a second, she flipped open her phone and called the one person she wanted to talk to – her cousin Veronica. Out of all her family members on her dad's side, Veronica was the only one who truly loved her unconditionally. Even when she cut the other girl's hair into the most horrible style ever because she was jealous of Veronica's long silky hair. The other Spanish female had never said a cruel word about the red head to this day.
After a few rings, there was a click and a groggy female voice mumbling, "'llo?"
"Roni?" Dea whispered, not sure why she was doing so.
The alertness of the girl on the other end rose when she recognized the tone in Dea's voice as fear, "Dea? What's wrong? Where are you? Are you hurt?"
Dea thought over her possible answers, finally murmuring, "Mhm… I'm hurt… I'm really hurt. Will you come stay with me tonight?"
Roni took up a gentle mothering tone to address the whimpering rosette with, "Yeah, sure hon. I'll be over in about an hour or two, okay? We'll make cake."
On any other occasion, Dea would have been fine with a sleep over and cake. However, there was something much more important that Dea wanted to do tonight. And that would require help from not just Roni, but all the new friends she had made, "No… actually, I have something else in mind… Ready for the craziest story you'll never believe is true?"
It would appear from the outside of the house, as the light illuminating from the windows went out one by one, that the Barr house hold was settling down to sleep. This theory would be true, were it not for the black Topkick parked out front, and the line of bodies silently loading boxes from the house into the back. The bodies included William Lennox, Sam, Mikaela, Veronica and Dea. Sam emerged from the house, the last of Dea's things in the box held in his arms, and nodded to Dea, who took her key from her pocket and locked the door. After slipping the key into the mailbox, she closed her eyes and turned from the door – not stopping when Mikaela opened her arms to hug her – and headed to the yellow Camaro parked on the street.
Inside the house the waning moonlight shone into what had been Dea's room – the walls, closet, and dressers bare, her bed made up with simple spare sheets from the downstairs closet. The only thing left sat on the dresser, a picture in a plain wooden frame of a woman with dark skin and hair, her eyes a light mahogany color. Dea had stared at that picture for so long. Even as her friends entered her room and stood behind her, waiting for what she had to say, she stood silently. It had always confused her, how such a fair skinned girl like herself with such brilliantly red hair and green eyes, had come of two dark skinned, dark haired, dark eyed people.
Veronica had grasped her elbow, and pulled the red head away from the picture – taking her downstairs to help with removing any picture with her in it from the living room. Their objective was to make it look as if a Dea Barr had never lived in this house. As if Dea Barr had never existed. She'd convinced herself that her father wouldn't care. He had his secret family to take care of; her leaving would be a gift to him. An early Father's Day present or something.
The two cars started their engines; Dea, Sam and Mikaela riding in Bumblebee, and Veronica with Will in Ironhide. Bee made the first move, pulling away from the curb by which he'd parked, and in the rearview mirror, Dea could see Ironhide pulling out of her driveway. Or what had been her driveway. The only person that house belonged to know was Daniel Lopez Barr.
She felt strange. She didn't want to cry, or scream. She didn't want to be comforted, or pitied. She just wanted to get away. Bringing her fist up to her mouth, Dea bit down on her knuckle as she watched the image of the house in Bumblebee's side mirror grow smaller. She closed her eyes, a slight jab in her heart causing her pain. Typically she wouldn't have believed such a thing as heartache couldn't really happen, and that it was just a way to express an emotion, but as she listened to Bee's engine and Sam trying to keep things normal by rambling about space zombies eating their principal's brain – the only way he could explain the sudden crack down on PDA – she could feel the growing emptiness taking hold of her.
Sam turned from the road, the steering wheel turning in his loosely held hands, to look at Dea. Worry was etched onto his facial expressions, but Dea had to hand it to him as she could see how badly he was trying to hide it from her, "So, now that you're technically a free woman…What's the first thing you plan on doing?" She gave the question some thought, wondering absently if finishing school was imperative for her life as an adult. Once she decided it was, she turned away from him so he could only barely see her smile.
"Why, my dear Sam. I intend to rob a bank, and you two shall be my cohorts!" she laughed in an evil manner – comically so, but still evil nonetheless – and held the back of her hand to cover her mouth. Sam stared at her for a few seconds, then slipped perfectly into the role of the grotesque henchman, like the hunchback guy from Frankenstein.
Chuckling to himself, he rubbed his hands over the other in a stereotypical evil manner, "Yes, Misssstresss…" he answered, hissing like a snake for added effect, "We shallsss halp yoooou!"
The girls exchanged a look, questioning him in perfect unison only manageable by girls, "Halp?" Mikaela gave a short laugh, then asked Dea with a flurry of hand gestures, "Can I halp you?"
"Why YES! Can you halp me get these bags to my room?" Dea answered, with a sophisticated British accent. The two then proceeded to laugh hysterically, while Sam busied himself with sulking and pretending to drive the Camaro. As silence resettled in the inside, Sam turned to look at Dea again. She offered him a smile, and he tried to smile back, but as he looked to the road, he could only hope to himself that he imagined the lifelessness that he had seen in Dea's jade eyes.
She turned her body so she was leaning onto the side of the back seat, looking towards the driver's seat of the Camaro. She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the tires on the pavement they were speeding down, the sound of Mikaela biting down on her thumbnail as she watched her friend from the passenger seat. Mikaela's clicking stopped, and Dea opened her eyes to see concerned baby blues staring back at her, "Dea, what are you really going to do?"
"I'm going to stay in school… I'll just be living in the Autobot base probably from now on. No big, I'll just need to get up earlier." She shrugged her shoulders and grinned crookedly, "Everything'll work out."
You say that and yet… Mikaela bit back her thought and opted for instead mimicking the smile, "Yeah you're right. Everything has worked out before. Why would this be any different?"
Dea giggled, "Exactly!"
But Dea, Mikaela, even the mostly oblivious Sam, knew that there was no easy solution for this. There was no story book fairy god mother to come and make everything peachy keen. Moreover, even though Dea was no longer a prisoner of her cage, there was no knight in shining armor to whisk her away to happily ever after. That thought, that hope that there was someone out there willing to risk their life for her sake, that was crushed the day that silver Solstice was torn asunder.
There was going to be no happy ending, but Dea would continue to read until the end.
Light Note: Oh…My…GOD! This chapter has seriously taken me so much longer than it should have it's insane. UGH! Next chapter is planned out pretty much, just not written down anywhere, so expect another long wait for an update. Jeebus I'm so bad… LAWL Forgive me? I has cookies? –hopeful smile-
Light of Heaven