(Thanks for your patience, folks. I've been ill; I still am, with some sort of unidentified virus that's been making my tongue get rid of my taste buds. Yep. The whole throat-swelling thing escaladed.
Regardless of my health, I did manage to do something productive between my sleeping and drinking liquids. I drew Torrie. Look up Torrie Evans by CrossxCut on Deviantart, and you'll have found her. She's kinda cranky looking, ain't she? If you can't find her, leave a comment in the review, and I will get you the link as fast as I can.
Note. I don't know if casts can be made waterproof, but for this fic's sake, it's going to be. :P
Also, I hate doing accents. Don't expect any this time around, unless I'm feeling pretty uppity.
Enjoy, I guess~ chapter seven away!
Tis shorter; yes, but you know what? I have four days to write chapters all day and night. You'll be getting your fix {drug dealer much?} in a little bit, if you readers can manage to wait just a wee bit. I'm still working out the kinks.)
To say I wasn't happy would have been an understatement. I was pissed. Very pissed. I had wanted to throttle John. It wasn't that I wasn't grateful for him saving me; just the opposite in fact, but it was something along the lines that he had an Autobot up on my property without me knowing it. And, and, that same Autobot that had been there had also witnessed my act of aggression and my rather blatant declaration of discontent for their entire species as a whole. I had gotten myself so worked up that I had sent the monitor on a spike, and gave myself a massive headache without ever uttering a single word. No. No. John wasn't with my curses; not in front of my girls. But; when I can catch his ass, I am going to give him one hell of a wallop.
Due to stress, so said Holly, I was in the hospital for another day. Skyler and Hally stayed with me, sleeping on the medical bed with me once I sneakily took out the IV drip line, and were both there with me when I was able to sign myself out of the hospital. During the day I was awake and aware, Holly changed out my cast for a smaller and thinner type, one that would easily provide the same support that the large one would, though less protection, and one I would be able to wear a shoe in and shower in, since due to some new fangled compound in it, it was waterproof. I had been given standard crutches, which suck by the way, and was flatly told not to walk without the crutches for the next five weeks, and that little strolls around the house come the sixth week would be all right. The seventh should have yielded me back into the doctors so I could arrange a physical therapy appointment. I was also given the order; not told or advised to do it, that I was not to do any heavy lifting above thirty pounds unless I was sitting, and that I should not bend over quickly until my forehead had healed as much as it was going to. John, kindly so, brought me a pair of overalls and a thick white t-shirt to change into. I did.
By the time all of the paper work was done, I had been advised many a time over about my warnings. Lets just say that John had a lot of calling to do in order to get a small mishap settled, and that it took us until somewhere closed to eight until it was done. That's a long time to be drilled on what I should and shouldn't do; such as walking.
Yeah; not happening. I still have the walking boot at my home from when I broke my ankle in my freshman year. It should still fit; my feet didn't grow anymore after eighth grade. As for lifting; I still have work to do. I was going to put my walking boot on when I got home, and then I was going to go check my contacts after I took a shower. I was sure I still have another car due in soon. I need to refresh myself… and I need to check out my own car.
"Hey John," I said offhandedly as I stood on my crutches watching him and my cousins. He was buying them some snacks from the snack machine, since I didn't have any money on me, and my checks were deposited in the bank before I had crashed. "What did you do with my car?"
He grunted softly at me, standing as he held several packages of snack crackers and all other sorts of nummy stuff that wasn't considered potato chips. Well; there had gone one of his many twenty-dollar bills. Skyler had her little arms full of the same stuff; meaning she was holding four packages, and one stuffed in her mouth. Hally was picking up the ones that unfortunately dropped. "Well," he rumbled softly. "I was tempted to send the da-rned thing to the wrecking yard, but I know that's your baby. I sent her home, of course. She's waiting in your barn with all your tools and tidily winks." John started forwards, walking calmly towards the exit. "You have a lot of work and cleaning ahead of you once you recover. Your car's headlights are shot; there's water damage on the interior, and a nice set of dents from the crash and from the deer. Not to mention the fried wires and circuits. Yep. You'll be busy for a long while before that beast is up and running again."
I nodded slightly and sighed. I hobbled along behind them, the crutches hurting my armpits like no other, as we approached the entrance and exit area. The sliding glass doors slid open automatically, and we all paced out. Well, I hobbled, but it got me outside. John waved with his elbow for us to wait here and then sprinted across the hot tar to his car… or his Autobot; whatever one he brought today. I realized he was sprinting because he was in thongs. I shook my head, my hair matted and painfully gross as it swayed fluffily back and forth. Who would have thought that a guy who wore suits all the time would pair them with flip-flops?
It was a little more then a minute or so later, I know because the clock outside seemed to be mocking me with its repetitive ticking, that John pulled up in his shiny silver solstice, shinier then the other one he had been driving at my house that supposedly was an Autobot. It was a nice car, truly, but I don't really think it'll fit my crutches and us all. The crutches are big, so as to accommodate my six foot six form, and when they fold down, they aren't much smaller.
As John stepped out, the car staying still, to come help us, I made a soft noise. "John, unfortunately, I don't think we'll all fit in this thing. Its… way to tiny."
John grinned. "Don't worry. He holds more then he looks like he would." I arched a red-brown brow. I knew I gave my car a gender. But I didn't know he had.
"He?" I prompted. I was handed Bell briefly as Skyler was settled into the car with her sister, and then I was giving her back just as fast. The little blond girl, it seems, had taken a liking to my bear.
When John got the door shut, effectively sealing the girls ears away from our words, he turned to me with a frown. "Yes. This is the Autobot from your farm; but a bit more cleaned up with a new coat of silver paint. Torrie, meet Jazz."
My eyebrows puckered, and I hid a wince when it pulled the skin. "You put my cousins in an Autobot." Was there anger in my voice? Why yes there was. "After all they've been through, you have the balls to put them somewhere I had never ever planned to put them. I should take these crutches and castrate you where you stand, Miller…"
The wheel shifted on the solstice, Jazz or what ever the fuck his name was, but he made no other move. John crossed his arms. "Jazz hasn't let on that he's a Cybertronian. Your girls think he's just a normal solstice."
My mouth tightened, and I hissed at him. "Fine. I don't care what they think; we are not going home in an Autobot."
"And you care to walk?" he arched a brow. "Its almost an hour by car from here to your house; how long do you think that'll be by crutch power? Hmm? Get in the car."
My fists tightened on the foam padding on the crutches handles. "I'm not getting in that Autobot." My eyes flicked to the wheel again. It shifted.
John twitched his eyebrows slightly. "You'll get in," he answered back, "Or I'll ship your car off to become scrap parts."
I flipped him the bird. "You don't have the title, nor can you find it."
John tilted his head. "No," he said simply. "But as a government agent, I can use that power to seize it. Come on, Torrie," he sounded exasperated. "I sound stupid flinging about my agent powers, just get in the car; its not like he's going to bite."
He might… I peered through the window, not seeing much through the tint. "I'm six foot six. This car is short. I'm not going to fit comfortably in the short fucker." The wheel jerked sharply, and I inwardly smiled. Hmmm. Touchy about being short? Or perhaps the curse word? "If you can fit my crutches in, sure, I'll ride in the Autobot. But only this once, John. Only once."
He got me settled in without another word, and then hopped into the drivers seat next to me. The passengers' window remained rolled up, but the Air conditioning unit started up. I puckered my lips to remain silent, as I felt the seat beneath me warm unnaturally fast. By the time we left Corvallis, the girls were giggling in the back seat, munching away on crackers. There wasn't much of a mess, but just enough to probably cause discomfort. Oh, yes, that made my day.
John cleared his throat to me, the girls engrossed in their crackers. "You know, your not going to be able to drive with your foot broken."
I furrowed my brows again, and then pressed my hand to the stark bandage on my head as the scarred skin throbbed with an unholy agony. "I can use my left." I grunted. "My Jimmy isn't a stick-shift; she's an automatic."
John never took his eyes off the road, though there seemed to be fakeness in his movements, as if he wasn't actually driving. "Your jimmy isn't going anywhere until you can redo a whole lot of electrical wiring and check your engine. You've still got something along the lines of six weeks until you can do such things."
I scowled softly. "Your point is?"
He hummed softly and leaned over to turn on the radio, though he only mimed the movements because the Autobot had turned it on just before his hand reached the buttons. A song by Johnny cash came from the speakers; ghost rider by the sounds of it. "Well, I'll be leaving the solstice with you so you can drive this instead. He's automatic too; and he self starts."
I frowned again. "Not happening." I commented. "I'll drive the Kubota before I drive this little electric car."
"… You know, I think I can see you doing that. But; unfortunately, your tractors license expired yesterday." There was smugness in his voice, so thick it was practically permeating the tight space of the Autobot solstice.
My jaw popped open. "You didn't."
John's face quirked into a smirk. "I did. See? I don't make empty threats, Torrie." I silently fumed. "So, until then, you're stuck going to anyplace in this lovely car."
I resisted reaching over to throttle him, all the rest of the way home. It was a temptation that I almost took pleasure in, and I'm sure John knew too. My twitching fingers probably gave it away. By the time that we had gotten home, it was late. Getting dark, rather; it was around nine o-clock. Time for the twins to go to bed, and time for me to go to my workshop and see to the damages of my Lady J.
When we were all out of the Solstice, John went to 'park' him, and probably debrief him on the do's and don'ts of living on my property. I had shambled up the steps with my girls trudging tiredly behind me. They had eaten their fill of crackers and passed out in the back seat; they were asleep on their feet, and I couldn't carry them up. That would change soon, though.
We trudged into my room, I heard John's 'hidden car' pulling out, and the girls simply flopped on the bed to watch me. I pulled out my walking boot, tossing the crutches in the corner, and hopped with one foot to flop on the corner of my bed. Finagling with the straps, I got the boot to fit with the cast inside it and grinned happily.
"Torrie?" Hally tiredly reached out, tugging my overalls. "Sleep with us? Pwease?"
I turned gently and scooped both girls into my arms like I would cradle a child. "Unfortunately, sweet peas, I gotta go shower and check on Lady J."
Skyler puckered her lips at me, but Hally spoke, as per usual. "But… But your not supposed to do stuffs like that!"
I gently kissed her forehead. "Work is work, sweets. I promise not to start anything tonight though," a blatant but well hidden lie, " so go to sleep, please? I'll come to bed in a bit. I wana go make sure John didn't park his," think of a pleasant word other then 'fucking monster', 'wrecking yard trash', or 'piece of shit'. "car in some place he shouldn't be."
Hally yawned softly in my arms. "Stay then, till we sleep? Pretty please with Mrs. Morgan's yummy pie on top?"
I chuckled softly and used my hand to smooth her messy pigtails back. "Sure, sweeties. I'll stay until you sleep." They yawned simultaneously, clinging to me. I rubbed their backs softly, humming in an off-key tune. Skyler seemed to settle down, just happy to be home and close to her cousin and parental figure, but Hally fidgeted slightly. "What's wrong, Hally?"
"Humming's fine, Torrie." She muttered sleepily. "But no singing. Pwease? Sounds like a waa.. wall. Walrs…"
"Walrus?" I supplied.
"Mmhmmm." She nodded sleepily. "Waaallllrooooos. Starving tone-deaf waaaaaallllroooos."
I blinked. "Do you even know what those words mean? How would you even know?"
"Intwerenet and a fasorus." Hally yawned. "Try it some time…" Her head tucked itself under my chin, and she didn't say anymore.
I sighed softly. Sleepy children, when they want to, can fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Tucking them in, after scooting over where I could reach the blankets, I gently pulled out their pigtails. Using my fingers, I combed out knots and smoothed down the mess that had become of their curls. I smiled softly as Skyler scooted towards her sister, cuddling with her. Bell was squished in-between them, one lone arm of the bear sticking out from above the covers.
Gathering my will, I hauled myself to my feet. The pain that greeted me from my right foot almost sent me back down on my ass. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, and I hobbled into the bathroom. I sat gingerly on the sink, curling my shin up to me and gently cradling my leg to me as a few pained tears trickled from my eyes. When the pain ebbed from the flare it had been, I got graced with a headache. Popping a vicodin and a half, my large size and the fact they acted like stronger Tylenol for me allowing me to do so, I looked at myself in the mirror. The tears left little iridescent tracks down my cheeks.
I was a mess. Plain and simple. I used my undamaged foot to open the drawer that held the washcloths, and set to cleaning up my face. I balanced on one foot, keeping the injured one off the ground, as I washed my hair. I had to change the bandage on my forehead after that; the bandage got wet. When it was all done with that, I sat on the counter again and stripped apart my cloths one piece at a time, pretty much sponge bathing myself so I didn't have to get in the shower. My bedroom was right next to the bathroom; you could hear everything in there. When I felt more presentable, my wet hair pulled back in a low ponytail, I gritted my teeth and then left the bathroom, lightning bolts of pain crippling my leg. I left the house, using the rail on the deck to slide to the ground; I gimped slowly to the barn.
I left the door wide open, not bothering to try and close it for privacy, and took a moment to look at my car. It was indeed a mess, and I felt sympathetic throbs in places where each of the damages would probably have been on a human. The rear axel had snapped clean in two; all four tires were fine, the hood was dented, and there was mud quite literally almost all over it. The windshield was cracked, blood splattered on it, which said that was where I had hit my head on it. One of the doors was missing, but it was laying near the car, large fingerprint like shapes indented into it. I frowned. Must have been the damn Autobot who did that… Oh well, I guess… my life isn't fixable; Lady J can be torn to shreds and then put right back together again.
Perusing over the other damages, I began to rack up the bill. It just kept going up; though some of these parts I would be able to salvage from ether upstairs, which would be interesting to go up and down with a broken foot, or somewhere in the pile of engines and miscellaneous parts. Speaking of an engine… that was probably another four grand just right there; not to mention wiring and anything else that needs fixed.
I bit my lip and rubbed my eyes softly, leaning on the damaged hood. I felt a shock go through my arm, and inadvertently hissed. Hanging from my mirror was the partially melted shard. The symbols weren't recognizable anymore; all of them melted together in one lumpy chunk. I sighed softly again. "This is going to take a lot of work…" I said to myself. I pried the hood open, my foot screaming in pain, and had to use my arm to hold the hood up since the spot where the hook to hold the hood up was bent out of the hooks reach. Gently fingering around inside the engine, I took in the damages.
"Aren't you supposed to be on crutches, 'lil femme?"
My hand slipped off the hood, and it banged down on the back of my shoulders. My eyes watered, and the breath was knocked out of me. I responded with a typical mechanic's response. "Son of a bitch!"
