"Before we start this fuckfest, I'm going to go ahead and let you know that I'm not saying shit. And quite frankly I'd like for you all to fuck off and die."

I barely had time to get out those words before the baton came down, slamming against the exposed flesh above my hip. The impact hurt, but the pulse of electricity hurt even more. I jerked upwards, a cry escaping me that sounded pathetic and the exact opposite of my boasting.

Oh, man. This might not last long.

Don't you fucking dare give up!

My eyes stung with tears, the water blurring my vision. I grit my teeth, cursing and focusing on Savoy's boots. Something, anything to distract me.

"That's for mouthing off. If you tell me where the Autobots are, you only get one."

"Fuck off."

Again. I grunted, struggling against the gloved hands that held me down. Spittle dripped down my chin as I focused more intently on Savoy's boots, gaze running down the grooves between the sole and the ankle. Another jolt of electricity jarred my concentration, and I gasped in agony, squirming against the patio floor.

"You'd die for them?" Savoy sounded surprised. "Because that's whats going to happen. But," he shifted, resting his elbows on his knees and peering down at me. "It doesn't. You can live a normal life, forget all of this. It doesn't have to be this way."

"Yeah. First rule of the hood is that you don't fucking snitch," I spat, my spittle laced with crimson. "I ain't saying shit."

"Okay. Your call," Savoy looked disappointed, lips quivering as I outright screamed as the shock caught me off guard. I was released, but when I jolted forward to run I found that I could barely stand.

I remained on my stomach, trying to keep myself from weeping. Savoy stood, walking towards the trees and stopping in the center of the lawn. All the men were on a hair trigger, waiting.

A moment later, screams filtered through the forest. I could hear gunfire, loud and soft. Flashes of light could be seen from between the trees, deep within the woods.

I shakily pushed myself up onto my knees. It was as far as I could go, and I could feel sweat drop from my forehead, mixing with my tears that seemed to flow out of control. Everything hurt. So, so badly.

"We've got them identified," one of them, a walkie clutched between his hands, called. "Six Autobots. One of them is Optimus Prime."

"What about Drew and his men?" Savoy asked.

"They're gone dark, sir."

Shit. Shit.

No. No, run!

Idiots!

"He's still out there," Savoy murmured. He turned towards me, stalking forward and grabbing a fistful of my hair. A scream tore through my throat as he yanked me forward, dragging me across the grass. He forced me to stand, keeping a firm grip on my hair. My legs screamed in protest but I pushed it aside, finding myself facing the forest and, beyond, the darkness.

Savoy opened his mouth and bellowed, voice carrying through the air, "Optimus Prime! Step out and surrender or else she," he tugged harder, and I cried out. "Dies. It's that simple. You don't want to be responsible for more bloodshed, do you?"

"Don't do it—"

"Shut up," Savoy barked, his hold on me increasing in intensity. My head was snapped back, neck straining as tears trickled down the side of my face.

Silence. The breeze rustled a few leaves, but that was about it.

Savoy let out a breath, murmuring, "Goddamit."

In one fluid motion he tugged a knife from his belt and thrust it into my gut, hard.

The fucker just stabbed me.

He…there's a knife in me.

There's a fucking knife in me.

Holy fuck.

I was honestly…confused. My brain didn't process what exactly had happened, or that the damage was bad. Really, really bad. Maybe it was adrenaline keeping me standing, but for a long moment I did nothing but let out a long sigh.

"Oh, shit."

A massive figure burst from the trees, like a charging bull. I'd only seen the shit in movies, and the way the trees and branches crashed and the men responded with shouts and gunfire was like something out of a film. Savoy cursed and released his hold, and I crumpled like a rag doll.

That's when the pain hit.

And oh did it hurt. The electrocution was nothing — hell, I'd have given anything to go back to that level of agony. This was something else, something unreal. From my view lying on my side I saw multiple pairs of metal feet stomp across the grass, and the bellows of the Autobots.

Autobots.

My crew. My friends.

Drift, Crosshairs, Hound, Bumblebee.

Optimus.

I clenched my teeth and began crawling, fingers using the grass as support to pull me forward. I had yet to remove the knife from my abdomen, and I didn't plan to. Not yet, at least. I'd spent far to much time on internet forums reading about puncture wounds.

Boots thundered past, but all I focused on was the fallen handgun resting just a few feet from my position. My shaking hands grasped it.

"Someone get the girl — get the girl!" Savoy was using my patio table for cover. I couldn't even get a clear shot at him. One of his men began sprinting across the lawn, right towards me.

Kiss this, bitch.

I fired. The bullet struck him in the chest, and he staggered, still approaching though with reduced speed. When he was close enough I fired and his eye exploded in a shower of flesh and muscle.

I groaned. Red seeped from my wound, trickling down my stomach. I could feel a combination of bile and blood rising in he back of my throat, and I gagged.

"Got her," a strong hand clamped around my shoulder. The man kicked the gun away and began dragging me by the shirt, jarring my wound sending shockwaves of agony through my body. I screamed, spitting and clawing.

"Kill her."

Savoy and I locked eyes. There was no glee on his face, just a taut lipped glare. The cold barrel of a gun pressed right between my eyes.

My attacker was plucked away as quickly as he'd approached. I heard a gruff Australian voice snarl, "Not today, maggot!"

My mind chose that moment to lose consciousness.


I snapped open my eyes.

Shit was foggy. Foggy and fucking confusing. Everything around me was muffled, but as I lay, staring up at what I assumed to be a dark ceiling, the noises were getting clearer and clearer until I could clearly make out lines of dialogue.

"You picked up a human during you travels, Prime—"

"She sheltered us, helped us. Risked her life for us, Ratchet," Optimus replied. I picked out his voice immediately, although this time, it was louder, deeper, and more metallic than before. Something had changed.

He had changed. They'd all changed.

For several minutes I lay still, eyes barely open. Just the idea of speaking made me uncomfortable. For a moment I wondered if I even remembered how to speak. Everything felt stiff and sore, particularly around my abdomen. Almost like period cramps, though I knew this was much, much different.

"She's lucky she lived."

"Your skills attributed greatly to her survival. Thank you, old friend."

My eyes had adjusted to the dim light. The ceiling above me was tall and vast, moonlight streaming through the punctures and tears. Wherever we were, it was old. Run down.

"She's also a tough little human," Crosshairs called from across the room. I didn't see any of them, but I could hear them. Clearly, now. "Don't forget that."

I chose to break the silence, steeling myself for any pain that would come and saying, "Aw. Thanks, Crosshairs. Love you to."

Footsteps thundered across the floor and six towering figures peered down at me. Hound, Drift, Crosshairs, Optimus, Bumblebee, and another yellow bot I'd never met before.

Out of them all, Prime looked the most relieved. I caught him staring and gave him the most seductive wink I could muster, which, as I expected, wasn't attractive at all. But his small smile was worth it.

"I lived, bitches," I coughed, trying to sit up. The other yellow bot reached out, one large palm gently forcing me back down. As I did so I wheezed, "I haven't met you. Who are you?"

"The Autobot medical specialist, Ratchet. You're alive because of me."

"Oh, sweet. Thanks man," I raised a hand, waving at him. The bot looked as if he didn't know how to reply, and instead chose to shake his head and grumble under his breath.

"We escaped Cemetery Wind. Split up and lost them at the border, then regrouped," Hound lumbered over, the chains around his neck and waist rattling. I smiled as I took in his real form. It suited him, as I expected. "Ratchet came to the rescue."

"How long was I out?"

Hound's face fell, and he looked at Optimus. From the boss bot's expression, I knew it wasn't good.

"Four days. You lost a significant amount of blood and slipped into shock."

I began to notice the blanket wrapped around me and the pillow, as well as the rest of my surroundings. I said, "How did you keep me alive all this time—"

"Hospital," Ratchet called from across the room. "My alternate mode is an emergency response vehicle. It was not hard getting you in the building, and out when they had your heart beating once again. I did the rest, and I did it far quicker. The adrenaline in your veins kept you alive, girl."

"Humans are resilient creatures," Optimus said, rather proudly. But there was still a hint of sadness behind his words. "I…consulted with the ancient Prime's. They decided our time as humans needed to come to an end."

Did you consult with them, or just…make them.

Make them for me.

"Thank Primus," Crosshairs took a seat against the wall, rolling his eyes. "I was getting tired of that fleshy, gross vessel."

"If I could switch to armored skin, I would. Shit hurts," I groaned, shakily running fingers across my bandaged abdomen. Ratchet noticed the movement and moved forward, brushing past Optimus.

"We need to change your bandages. Sit still."

"Oh, fun," I braced myself as Ratchet crouched before me. "Wait, we?"

"Your hands are smaller, which will make the task easier. I will walk you through the instructions," Ratchet opened his palm. A pair of scissors, disinfectant, and new bandages. I winced, propping myself up on one elbow.

Thus proceeded the grossest process I'd ever put myself through. I'd never had an injury this serious — being an athlete usually resulted in twisted limbs and torn muscles, not something this blood and graphic. The moment I tenderly lifted the tattered bandages from my body I nearly vomited.

Okay. Gross. Gross, gross, gross.

Gore didn't bother me. But this, combined with the fact that it was on my body and the fact that I was doped up on drugs made it all the more horrifying. Thick stitches held my flesh together, preventing my insides from spilling out all over the place. The line was red, jagged, a raw.

"It's not infected. Good," Ratchet said happily.

"That is…fascinating. And hideous," Hound peered over Ratchet's shoulder, clearly unbothered by the fact that I basically had a fucking pouch in my stomach.

"Hound, fuck off," I hissed.

"My bad," Hound raised his hands in a placating gesture, slinking back to his seat between Bumblebee and Drift. Another heavy body knelt next to me. Optimus placed a comforting hand next to me, his face grim and he watched the process before him.

"What next, Doc?" I panted, queazy as I was forced to stare at the wound. "I really don't like looking at this."

"Just do as I say."

"Gotcha."

The moment the last bandage was in place, I gave a sigh of relief. I was fucking sweating, and when I was finally able to lay back I let out a breath I didn't even know I'd been holding. I wiped the flecks of blood from my fingers, using my shirt as a towel. It was a fresh shirt — the hospital must have given it to me. I hoped. If not all the bot's had probably seen me naked.

I mean…if you and Optimus have sex, it won't be awkward.

Ah, yes. I'm pretty sure seeing your partner naked and covered in blood would really make intimacy with them less of a struggle.

"Ratchet, you're the real MVP," I breathed. "But next time, go ahead and change the bandages when I'm asleep. Give me some xanax, knock me the fuck out."

Ratchet glanced over at Prime, saying, "is she normally like this?"

"Yes," Optimus shrugged. "You get used to it."

I laughed, pulling the blankets up to my chest. It didn't take long for me to drift off once more, and when I awoke again, the first thing I noticed was the rumbling in my stomach.

"I need food."

Ratchet proceeded to produce stolen hospital food. I had no clue how he'd pulled it off, and I didn't even want to ask. From Bumblebee and Drift's smug expressions, it had been their doing.

Still don't want to know.

I scarfed it down, taking sips of water between every few bites. The pounding headache between my eyes had decreased, though only a bit.

"How did Savoy know that, well, you knew?" Crosshairs said suddenly. He narrowed his eyes. "I thought you sent him to Kentucky."

"I did," I replied glumly. All the Autobots were watching me with interest, and I mustered enough strength to sit up. This time, Ratchet did not scold me. "I…drew pictures of each of you. Of your robot forms — just quick sketches. I was going to give them to you all as a gift. When I went to the store to buy markers and pencils, you know, stuff to color with, some of Andy's people jumped me and stole my backpack. Andy must have gone through it, seen and recognized my picture of Bumblebee, and contacted Savoy somehow. Or, hell, Savoy could have wiretapped his phone for all we know."

Bumblebee made a sound, his door wings drooping. Almost immediately I said, "It's not your fault Bee. Don't ever think it was, okay? I should have been more careful. I was stupid. I didn't think that anyone would really piece two and two together."

"Undone by carelessness," Ratchet made a noise of disgust.

"Hey, this kid saved our afts," Hound spoke up, gnawing on what looked to be a giant cigar. "She took us in, did her best to keep us safe. She's earned a simple mistake."

"We would have been found out eventually," Optimus said. "I only wish it had been under different circumstances."

"I told you, Prime. I couldn't make the promise that I'd run, or that I'd survive. I'm the one who alerted Cemetery Wind, anyway. It's only fair that I take the L for that."

"Not with your life," Optimus said darkly. "That…that is precious to me."

Crosshairs whistled and Ratchet looked stunned, his eyes darting back and forth between Prime and I.

"Well, that escalated quickly."

Drift nudged Bumblebee, and the little bot fell silent. I felt a blush creep onto my face, which I hid by turning away and lying back down. I wanted, no, needed to walk. Specifically so I could try and embrace Optimus.

But my legs felt like jello. In due time, I told myself.

In due time.