Chapter 6
"Ratchet, open a ground bridge," Optimus commands. I abruptly wake on the couch and sit up to stretch, trying to dispel my nightmares, as the Autobots exit the base though the portal. Ratchet, Miko, Raphael, Jack, and I are the only ones left in the base.
"I have gotto stop passing out like that," I yawn and peer around the base. "Where's everyone else?"
"Everyone else is on a mission," Ratchet answers without looking away from his screen. His response sounds causal enough that I don't feel worried for them at all. I turn to Miko who's standing next to me with a bag of fabrics in her hands.
"What's that?" I ask.
"Ratchet mentioned that you were into costume design, and you look like you could use some new clothes and something to do, so I went into town with Bulkhead and grabbed some supplies you might need to make yourself some," she replies cheerfully as she hands me the large bag. "I can get you some pants and shoes, but you're gonna have to do the shirt part-with your wings and all." I glance inside and find all of the necessary items to make myself new attire. On one of the desks, I see that someone has also obtained a sewing machine that looks fairly used.
"Agent Fowler brought that," she mentions, pointing her thumb towards it.
"Wow, this is great! Thanks for going out of your way to do this, Miko!" I beam at her thankfully.
"No problem! I was pretty bored anyway, so no big deal," she answers nonchalantly.
"Well I guess I should get to work on this."
After many hours of work, I examine my new clothes that I have made. There is a leather corset with straps connected to a long flowing sleeve that drapes over my left shoulder. Around my waist, I will have a belt with tails, like the ones from a coat, lining the back. While I was making these, Miko had also brought some boots that seem similar to hers, but are accented in blue-green and gray.
I search the base for a place to change while I gather my new clothes in my arms. The others have come back from their most recent mission, so there seems to be no possible area for me to get some privacy. Wait, what about the ship? I walk over to Ultra Magnus, "Mind if I use the ship for a second?"
"What would you be needing it for?" he asks, confused. I roll my eyes. I'm going to have to explain this, aren't I?
"We humans have this thing called modesty. It's where we don't like other beings witnessing when we are not fully clothed," I explain, "Seeing that your ship is the only place I could possibly gain some privacy, I feel the need to use it as a place to change out of the rags I wear now."
He gives me a look of impression. "It seems that there is more and more to learn about your kind. Very well." Ultra Magnus walks with me to the lowered platform and pushes a few buttons to cause it to rise. "Let me know when you're done in there, and don't touch anything," he finishes before the door seals beneath me.
Alrighty then, I'll just go over here.I flutter over to the back of the chairs in the cockpit. I first remove what is left of my shirt. The bandages are the next things to come off. Before I remove them, I run my fingers over the grooves in the skin of my shoulder where metal shows. Realizing I am completely alone, a song pops into my head and I begin to sing,
I don't remember the moment I tried to forget,
And I lost myself.
Is it better not said?
Now I'm closer to the edge.
It was a thousand to one and a million to two.
Time to go down in flames
And I'm taking you closer to the edge.
No, I'm not sayin', I'm tiring.
One day, maybe we'll make it.
No, I'm not sayin', I'm tiring.
One day, maybe we'll make it.
I reach to take my bandages off, but freeze when I hear a voice behind me.
"Hey kid, what're you doing in here?" Wheeljack inquires.
"Wheeljack!" I shout after whipping around in surprise. "I could ask the same of you! Does Ultra Magnus know you're in here?
"He might," he gives me a sly grin; "he might not." My hand meets my face in frustration.
"Look, I was just changing into some clothes I really want to try on. Could I please have some privacy?" I plead.
"Okay, okay," he holds his hands up as if he means no offense in being here. "I'll just be in the back 'not touching the weapons'." He makes air quotations with his upheld hands before leaving. I let out a sigh before I resume modifying my apparel.
A few minutes later, I have slipped into my new clothes. They seem to be fitting me perfectly. "Because I'm just that good," I state as I examine my new outfit. While I do so, I can hear Wheeljack forgetting his fetish to see what I'm talking about.
"Whoa," he gapes at me. "I'm no expert in human culture, but that getup looks great on you..." I stare at him for a moment, my eyes wide and eyebrows knit. "What?" he demands. Then, I let out a hurricane of laughter. "What's so funny?" Wheeljack frowns. I am doubled-over gasping for breath between bursts of laughter.
"Did you just hear yourself?" I chortle while I pick up my tattered jeans and bandages. "'That getup looks great on you'. Thanks, but..." I burst into laughter again, then gasp for another breath, "Wow, you've changed so much since you've come to Earth, Wheeljack." My feet carry me to the platform while I continue to giggle, "Please stop." Wheeljack's frown turns to a smirk as he follows me. "If you're wondering how I know how much you've changed, don't think for a second that you aren't a painful memory of Ratchet's."
"I would've never guessed," Wheeljack gives me a smug look. Suddenly, a sharp pain emerges from my side. My knees buckle, but instead of hitting the ground, I feel a giant hand catch my back. I look up to see that Wheeljack is supporting me with a concerned look on his face. "Don't go blackin' out on me," he chastises.
"I'm fine," I reassure him as I grasp my side with one arm and push myself back to my feet with the other. "That's what I get for straining my ribs like that," I smile at him weakly.
"What'd they do to you, kid?" he inquires.
"Not much worse than what they probably put you through," I answer. Wheeljack raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Tests of endurance mostly," I correct myself, "They used different methods of testing how much my body could take with the implants they installed in me."
"And by 'they', you mean old One-Eye –Shockwave." My smile turns to a grimace, and Wheeljack's eyes widen as he quickly realizes his mistake. "Sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for," I assure him, "I just hate that name, and everything to do with it. Ever since I escaped from Darkmount, my only reason for living is to make sure my history with the Decepticons doesn't repeat itself – ever again."
"Just make sure once that's done, you find another reason," Wheeljack replies. He strolls away and stops right next to the panel to lower the platform. My expression changes to a slight smile when I realize the meaning behind his words.
"Oh and by the way, I didn't see you in here," I mention before he presses the button to lower me out of the ship.
