Nature of the Beast

One-Shot: Stray Cat Strut

Chapter 4

*Inspired by Maria Shadow's story "Two-Stroke" and Ravens-of-Morea's "The Kitten"! Thank you ladies for such lovely little stories!*

*Also inspired by the cute art piece by Evelynism: "Grim x Kitty."

*Takes placing during the 3-day lull after "In Too Deep"

"Maiow!"

"Sen! Sen'za, where are you?" a hoarse voice hollered. Heavy pedefalls thundered along with it. Lighter ones accompanied them, quicker and less spaced out.

"Maiow!"

Grimlock and Frostbite were busy following Tumbler's endless mewling. Beside him, the White Hound let out a low whine. His snout was to the ground and he was cycling air into his olfactory sensors in rapid bursts. His audials were swiveling around like crazy, trying to pick up even a faint sound of their target. His snout lifted up to glance at the burly Dinobot. He looked worried. Another whine escaped his vocalizer.

"Nothing?" he demanded.

[Too much.] Frostbite told him coldly. [Her scent is everywhere. Recent. Overlapping. Been moving around a lot. Trying to avoid us. Hasn't left the yard scared. Praxian's overlap hers. Been keeping an optic on her. No clue how he manages to scent her; she's not talking. City-dwellers are scent-blind compared to us.]

The Dinobot tried to scent her out himself. He was instantly bombarded by so many scents both familiar and not it sent his processor reeling as he tried to process it. Grimlock was no tracker. Frostbite on the other hand was an expert. His sense of smell was far better than his, his systems designed from the moment he emerged from the Well for tasks like this. That was his main function. He was a hunter and a tracker. Grimlock was a fighter like all Dinobots. In a brawl over territory or resources there was little need for sniffing out the enemy – normally because they were already in your face and pounding you at that point. Dinobots...they weren't the best when it came to stealth. They just weren't built for it. Brawls? They were darned good at brawls. Predacons were a lot more – oh, what was the word?

Formal.

Yeah. That was it. Formal.

"Maiow?"

Tumbler stopped at the top level of the isle. She looked out across the expanse of classic and collector's vehicles with her big hazel eyes. Her tail flicked around abruptly. She looked confused. Grimlock glanced around, equally confused. There was no tell-tale black, curved-wing jet anywhere in sight. Maybe Sen was cloaked? Why else would Tumbler stop here? There was no food bowl lying here for her, no water dish, no humans or 'bots to play with. Well, 'side from them of course. But she seemed to understand they were helping her track the Seeker.

"Maiow?"

It sounded like she was asking a question in her own language. Her head tilted to the side. Her tail swished.

"Maiow?"

The Dinobot looked down at the White Hound. He was watching the little cat with a curious expression. "You think...?"

[Calling.] Frostbite affirmed. [Waiting for an answer. Any kind. Canipids do it a lot. Means she must think Sentenza is here now or very recently. Her scent here is strong. Good indicator.]

"Why doesn't Sen come out then? She knows we aren't gonna yell at her or nothing."

Frostbite looked up at him. Grimlock was startled by his grim expression.

[No. She doesn't know that. Knows her other half took control and forced her to end at least five lives on that wreck. Knows she is surrounded by mechs and femmes of solid morality. Knows everyone saw her fuel-stained frame and knows everyone will know what that means. Knows she attacked and near killed a convict of the Alchemor. That's it. That's all the Seeker knows for certain. That's enough reason to force herself into social exile.]

The Dinobot blinked. "But...she saved Strongarm! And helped save Drift and the minis! She bought all them enough to get off the wreck!"

Grimlock lifted his gaze back to the auto section. It looked less like a collection and more like a graveyard to him now – a graveyard turned into a prison. It made a certain dark sense now for Sen'za to surround herself with un-living machines she couldn't harm, that wouldn't be afraid of her. Here at least was another place she could feel safe, even if her reasons behind it could use some serious editing. He gave another gruff sniff of the air. Nope. Still there. And Tumbler sure thought so, too. Cat hadn't moved from her spot. Didn't look like she would any time soon, either. He made to step forward to begin searching...

[No.]

He glanced down sharply at Frostbite, dumbstruck.

"Why not? We need to find her and make sure she's okay!"

Frostbite's expression hardened until it looked like his optics really were made of ice. The wolf directed his gaze to the rows of old but well-kept vehicles. Grimlock saw his optics soften, his audials pin back. His maw opened and he let out a soft musical howl out of range of hearing of the humans. Then he turned around and headed back the way he came. Grimlock confusedly whipped his helm between the wolf and the auto section, jaw open in disbelief. Frostbite was just giving up? Just like that? This was the guy who basically had no real reason to defend Iacon or her people and he did it any way!

"But..."

His argument died feebly in his vocalizer on noting the wolf's expression. It was stern but there was compassion there, too.

[Leave her, jlaltoka. She will not emerge. Not around us. The feline will watch her.]

The wolf peered up to share a quizzical whine with Tumbler. The little calico seemed to understand perfectly, mewling and giving one of her odd slow blinks. Unless they were both imagining things it appeared as if she nodded at them. Tumbler then gracefully leapt off the top shelf and trotted into the rows and rows of vehicles. Every few seconds she would mewl. The cat then disappeared down one of the rows, slipping beneath an old pick-up truck. The two beast-formers lost sight of her after that. They could barely even hear her tiny padded paws hitting the ground. All they could hear was her persistent mewling.

Grimlock didn't like it. Maybe Tumbler would have a better chance of getting close and helping her than any of them did, though. Frostbite sure thought she might. And he trusted him as the better analyzer of the two of them. He had a feeling he was right. The idea of leaving Sen'za's safety in the hands of a small, furry Earth creature that couldn't speak was completely crazy to him – but it was just crazy enough that it might work. She might be just what the Seeker needed right now.

Sentenza overheard most of the conversation between the two mechs. Situated as she was against one of the walls, tucked between two large freighter trucks in near pristine condition, it had been hard not to. Grimlock's voice was loud and bombastic, and it was easy enough to read between the lines and interpret what the White Hound had possibly told him. She was too afraid to use the common frequency Frostbite employed. It would be sparkling's play for Windstorm and Fix-It to track the signal her comm. link emitted.

She was relieved when the two left, but another part of her screamed at her to get up and run after them, beg their forgiveness. Not just for avoiding them but for forcing them to see the ugly aftermath of the Demon the astrosecond she'd stepped out of that groundbridge. They were innocent, all of them. They did not deserve to be exposed to Her darkness. And so she kept a distance from them, even from Counterforce and Sideswipe – and Charity, too. She didn't have the spark to push them completely away, though. She knew they meant well. If they did manage to stumble across her or find her through purposeful accident she would let them in a little closer. But once they were done comforting her or enticing her into keeping her fuel reserves up or humming a little song to her she would leave to find another hiding spot.

The Seeker had been kidding herself this whole time. She couldn't be around anyone here. It was too dangerous. On Cybertron the Demon was a shadowy crook-hunter, feared yet respected by criminal and law officer alike. Here – here She was just a monster. No impulse control, no morals, no conscience – no spark. The Demon had attacked and killed with even less mercy than She normally possessed on Cybertron. She'd killed before even finding their motivations. Something inside had just...reacted.

Her yellow optics dulled. A few sweet-smelling tears trickled out. Her helm bowed down to rest on her knee pikes. She wept in silence.

"Maiow." came the familiar noise. "Maiow! Mrrow?"

The Seeker forced herself to lift her helm back up. Padding through the isles, tail up and hazel eyes wandering around, was Tumbler. Her cloaking field flickered as her concentration faltered. The cat stiffed, looking at the black and red mirage across from it. One paw lifted. She looked ready to bolt. Suddenly desperate, Sentenza reached out for the calico. Startled, Tumbler fled. Her expression spasmed. Her helm dropped onto her knee pikes again. There was a hot sting in the corners of her optics but no tears came out. Her ducts were dry after nearly three straight solar cycles of them.

'Great.' she thought dejectedly. 'Even the cat's scared of me...'

Her optics shuttered, only to re-open even duller than before. Her spark twinged in its chamber. She glanced down at the black rod on her hip. She detached it and examined it. It'd be easy to remove the Demon permanently with it. She knew enough about killing others to know how to end a life quickly. One quick, deep slice to the a'lik tmeo line...

Unconsciously the black bar moved up towards her chestplates, following her line of thought. Easy. Very easy. If this was what it took to keep the others safe and be free of the monster inside for good...

She glanced down sharply on feeling a soft vibration on her trod. Tumbler was there as if by magic, purring and rubbing up against her perpetually cold mesh. The warm fur and her strange vocalizations broke the spell. The black bar dropped from her hand with a soft clatter. Tumbler did not flinch at the sound. Sentenza gently scooped the little creature into her hands and brought her close to her faceplates. Tumbler's purring only grew louder as she brushed up against her. The cat did not pause her affections for a good breem, and when she did she her enormous hazel eyes locked with her own yellow optics. There was something in them the Seeker simply couldn't place.

"Mew." Tumbler said. It was a quiet little mewl, more of a squeak really, but it brimmed with warmth.

And she bonked her head against her silver faceplates, purring loudly. Then she went back to her affectionate brushing.

Sentenza managed a short, crying laugh. A smile broke out on her lip-plates. She shuttered her optics and simply drank in the tactile and audial information the cat put out. She could feel Tumbler's little double-tap heartbeat, feel her fur that was softer than anything she'd felt, feel her nuzzling, hear her purring and breathing. Something about it washed all dark thoughts from her processor. All she cared about was the little delicate life in her hands, blindly trusting her when she felt such trust was undeserved.

"Thank you..." she whispered.

The calico cat just kept on purring. She didn't need to speak her odd language to know she was saying "You're welcome."

Peeking around from behind another isle of cars, Grimlock and Sideswipe observed the Seeker interact with the cat. Sentenza seemed unaware of them. Her attention was elsewhere.

The red mech's normally carefree, teasing attitude had undergone a rapid reversion to pain on seeing her. Her optics had been so dull, and thanks to her coolant ducks being dry as rust she hadn't even been able to cry when Tumbler had darted off, spooked at her sudden re-appearance. They'd very nearly run forward on spotting her grab her scythe and bring it up towards either her spark chamber or her neck cables. Either meant death. But then Tumbler had re-appeared, and the weapon had dropped to the ground. Sentenza had actually managed a laugh and a smile. Even from their distance they could hear the cat's purring like thunder rumbling over the land.

*That cat needs a slagging chevron.* Sideswipe said. His blue optics were round and his mouth hung open slightly. *Somebody make it happen.*

Grimlock managed a toothy grin. He told him a chevron'd probably crush the poor cat flatter than a piece of cesium salami, but if Denny got her a collar they could totally give her a medal to put on it. Windstorm and Backdraft could tinker together a little chevron to attach to it like a badge. Tumbler slagging deserved a medal, no doubt about it. In his opinion she deserved ten of them. Because whether that fuzzy feline was aware of it or not she'd probably just saved the Seeker's life.

*Come on. Let's head back before they see us. I think she's good now.*

They turned to leave, stepping quietly. Both mechs looked back to see Sentenza was now holding the calico in her arms. She looked happier now, more relaxed. Sideswipe smiled.

Author's Note: There are actual studies out there that show contact with an animal, especially a dog or cat, does help fight depression. I speak from experience on that. I don't suffer depression as much as anxiety, so whenever I have an attack at the house my parents help guide my dog Loki to wherever I am and he'll just freaking sit there and drink my tears away. He's weird like that. But goddamn does it work. I'm sitting there crying from anxiety one second and then laughing a little on feeling him lick my face. My mom jokes that he likes the taste because of all the salt. xD

I get the feeling the same sort of concept might apply to a Cybertronian. A race like that might very well have pets but they'd either be other aliens (a la Foxbear's "Deja Vu" story) or native "animals" like turbo-foxes, rust hounds, or cyber-cats. Due to their tactile nets being so sensitive and everything around them on their planet being made of metal I would expect a tiny, soft little ball of fur like Tumbler would be even more effective because they're far more delicate.