Author's Note: I'm pulling from the Botosphere fanon for some of the info about Arcee in this and future chapters. We tweaked the timeline in our little 'verse so that Arcee and the other new Autobots arrived on Earth almost a year before Shanghai. The femme has lived on Diego Garcia long enough to become friends with Sarah Lennox and, to a lesser extent, Mikaela. (And yes, that's a shameless plug for my fic Introductions: Sarah Lennox.) :) Information about her and the other Autobots' past on Cybertron comes from IDW's Transformers: Defiance.
Bumblebee's song clips:
"Say What You Need to Say" by John Mayer
"Superman" by Five For Fighting
"It Won't Be Like This for Long" by Darius Rucker
"Fingertips" by They Might Be Giants
Mikaela was awake before I was again, but at least the clock read 0830 hours instead of almost ten. "Morning, beautiful."
Looking up from reading on her bunk, she grinned. "Morning, famous."
"You know," I said, sitting up. "I could get used to this, having you here when I wake up."
"Me, too," she said softly.
I stood and stretched, and she carefully wrapped her arms around my sore ribs, resting her head against my chest. "I'll never take the sound of your heartbeat for granted again."
I kissed the top of her head. "I love you."
"I love you, too," she answered, a smile in her voice. "And as much as I'd love to take the next hour showing you just how much, you've already got a line at your door."
I kissed her – one slow, tender kiss. "If I have to march up to Communications again, I'm going to get some time with you today."
She smiled and lightly traced the still-healing scrape on my cheek. "Sounds good." Then, sighing, she stepped away. "Better see the guy who's waiting."
"Right." Choosing some clean clothes (a uniform kindly provided by the Navy), I picked up a bag of toiletries and headed off to the showers. Sure enough, there was a man standing at attention outside my door. I was surprised that he looked vaguely familiar. Considering the number of faces I'd seen in the last few days, it was impressive that I could remember anyone at all.
"Hey," I greeted him. It took me a second to place him, and then I remembered that he was the one who accompanied me to the Autobot cargo bay yesterday. Come to think of it, he was also the one who'd taken me to see the people in Communications.
"Sir," he acknowledged crisply. "Captain Wilder has assigned me as your personal aide. He also asked me to inform you that you now owe him lunch."
I chuckled. "If Mikaela Baines can join us, I'm on for today. But tell the people in Communications that I still get a casual meal with my family and friends."
"Yes sir! Any preference which one, sir?"
"Better make it dinner. When's our first appointment today?"
"0930 hours. Several Chinese leaders want to meet with you."
I sighed. Of course Lennox was right about that. "Right. Now if you excuse me, I reek. I'll be back in about ten minutes."
Twenty minutes later, I was walking with my aide toward the lift that went to the Autobot bay (after a brief detour through the mess hall for some granola bars – I didn't want to face Ratchet's wrath about skipping breakfast). I wanted to see Bumblebee, and I needed to get my pills from Ratchet so he wouldn't be tempted to use his holoform today. "Sorry," I said to the man beside me, "but I didn't catch your name."
"Ensign Mohammad al-Sharif."
I glanced at him sidelong. Now that he mentioned it, he did have kind of a Mediterranean look to him, but I never would have guessed he was Muslim without the name. No accent, just dark hair and eyes. Huh. "And we didn't scare you off yesterday?"
"Permission to speak freely, sir?" he asked as he put his arm out to hold open the lift door for me.
"Always."
He entered the elevator behind me, pressed the button for the cargo bay level, and then stood at ease. "The Autobots are very intimidating, I won't deny it. But the mosque I worship at was vandalized in the aftermath of the September 11th attacks. Like your Autobots, I know what it is like to be misunderstood, to be judged guilty by association just for being what I am."
Wow. That was…unexpected. I stared at him, and he added, "I volunteered for this position because I have fought against prejudice before, and I want to help."
I was floored. Until now, I felt like I was waging a one-man battle for the Autobots. Optimus' words from last night echoed in my mind: there are many who will follow you. WOW!
Feeling like I should say something, I answered, "Thank you."
He tipped his head in acknowledgement and stood a little straighter. "My pleasure, sir."
The elevator came to a stop, and my aide held his hand out to keep the door open for me again. Still…a little thunderstruck, I stepped into the Autobot bay, al-Sharif following me.
Bumblebee was standing in the doorway of the med bay, everything about his stance just…sad again. He turned his head when he heard us enter, though, and perked up. Hurrying over, he crouched down. With his half-healed voice, he cheerfully mumbled "Good morning."
"Morning, 'Bee. As ordered, I'm here for my meds. Oh, and Bumblebee, this is Ensign Mohammed al-Sharif. Ensign, meet Bumblebee. 'Bee's been my personal guardian for the last two years. And 'Bee, Mohammed is my personal aide now, so if you guys need to find me and my cell's turned off or whatever, he's your man."
"It's about time your species realized you needed some extra help," Ratchet grumbled from his med bay. "Now get your skidplate in here."
Grinning, I headed toward him, al-Sharif following closely. Ratchet flipped the tarp to cover the table again and retracted the tool he'd been using. He had my pills for the day already bagged and labeled. Just ibuprofen, I was relieved to see.
"If you don't come down here before you turn in for the night, I'll send your Lortab with Optimus."
"Thanks. Oh, and Ratchet, this is Ensign al-Sharif."
"Yes, I heard," he said, crouching down to look my aide in the eyes. "And I expect you to remind him to take his medication and to eat. It is ridiculous the way your people have been treating him."
Pale but steady, al-Sharif nodded his head and answered, "Yes sir."
"Good man. Now go away. I've got work to do."
"He's the warm, fuzzy type," I sniggered as we left the med bay.
Optimus was standing in the middle of the cargo bay, waiting for us. "I just received word that the NATO representatives wish to speak with me this afternoon. They have some questions for me about the Solar Harvester. Thank you, Sam."
"I didn't do anything."
"You opened their minds," he corrected. "This is the first time that human leaders outside of NEST's chain of command have wanted to communicate with us directly. I understand you will be at the meeting, too, so I will see you then."
I bobbed my head in answer and then glanced at Bumblebee, who was still hovering nearby. To al-Sharif, I said, "How long until the meeting?"
He nervously shifted his feet but answered, "We can spend another five minutes here."
"Okay. Just sit tight for a few minutes, then. I'll be right back." Walking over to Bumblebee, I said, "Can we talk?"
He transformed and popped open the driver's side door, and I climbed in. Darkening the tint on his windows, he drove us to an out-of-the-way corner and killed the engine. "Say what you need to say," the radio sang.
I took a deep breath. Even though I knew the answer, I had to ask. "You think I'm a Prime?"
A preacher's voice boldly declared through the speakers, "I am a witness! Hallelujah!"
I dropped my head to the steering wheel. "How is it even possible?" I murmured.
He didn't give me an answer, probably because he didn't have one.
"Even if you're right," I said softly, "even if having the particles in my blood makes me a Prime, I can't do it. I'm not…" My voice trailed off as I tried to find the right words.
"I'm only a man in a funny red sheet, looking for special things inside of me."
I sighed in relief that he understood. He always saw right to the heart of what I was feeling. "That's right. I'm not Superman."
The sound bite of a woman's voice demanded, "You think I don't know that?"
I frowned. "It's worse than thinking I'm Superman. You think I'm a Prime."
The preacher repeated, "I am a witness! Hallelujah!" followed by a man's voice saying, "It doesn't matter what I think."
Because the evidence spoke for itself – Optimus was alive because I used the Matrix that only a Prime could use. That's what I kept coming back to, and it was like coming to a brick wall. There was no way I could get beyond it, even to find out what future laid on the other side. Finally, I said, "I don't know how to do what you guys want me to do."
Some commercial voiceover said, "You have to try it to believe it."
I didn't want to believe it, that was the problem. Sitting up again, I said, "I wanted to try a normal life before all this, and I still do."
"Even heroes have the right to dream," the radio sang.
I half-smiled. "But it's just a dream, Bumblebee, because if I'm an ambassador for the Autobots like Optimus wants me to be, it's going to be a full-time job."
A country singer crooned, "It won't be like this for long," and then a chipper woman said in a TV-ad voice, "…a new career with flexible schedules and great benefits."
I actually laughed this time. "Benefits like a shiny new yellow Camaro every year?"
The seat under me moved in a slight shrug, but the frame vibrated with laughter, too. I rested my hand on the dash, taking comfort in the fact that we could still laugh together. The world hadn't changed that much.
As the humor drained away, though, I said, "But what if I fail? I'm not even sure what it is exactly that you want me to do." I hadn't meant to actually speak the words out loud, but as I said them, I realized that was the real problem.
He had to use three different clips to cobble his answer together. "You can only fail us by not trying."
I let the truth of his words sink in. Back in the cemetery, Optimus hadn't asked me to change anyone's mind, just to remind them that I, at least, trusted the Autobots. "But can't I be an ambassador without being a Prime?"
"I don't understand you," he sang.
"Me neither, 'Bee. I don't understand me, either."
I received a text from my aide, giving me a one-minute warning. "Gotta go. But thanks for letting me talk at you."
'Bee zipped back over to where al-Sharif was talking to Ironhide and opened my door for me, quoting, "Love ya, man."
I patted his roof as I got out. "Love ya, too." Then I sighed at Ironhide while Bumblebee transformed behind me. "Is it remotely possible for you introduce yourself without bringing your cannons into it?"
The big, black Autobot harrumphed at me and glanced lovingly at the cannon on his left arm. "I lost one of them in that battle. I have every right to show off Ratchet's impressive repair work."
"Uh-huh. Well, now that you've terrorized my aide, we'll be going. See you tonight."
As much as I'd prefer to stay with them and just hang out... I sighed and headed back to the lift. Al-Sharif sighed with relief when the elevator doors closed, cutting off sight of the Autobot bay. I glanced at him curiously. "Permission to speak freely?"
With a flicker of a smile, he said, "Always."
"What do you think of them? I mean, you've sat on their side of the fence before, but what do you think of them personally."
He hesitated for a moment. "Are you a spiritual man, Mr. Witwicky?"
"Not until recently," I answered. Though it wasn't exactly what you'd call traditional religion, I thought with a grimace.
"To be perfectly honest, they remind me a little of djinn – powerful creatures that conceal themselves from humanity and each one a unique creation."
"Djinn?"
He tossed me a self-depreciating smile. "Genies in English, though the word doesn't really convey the right meaning."
I had a mental image of the Genie from Aladdin. "Not quite following you."
He sighed at my ignorance. "They are merely legends in some people's minds. Traditionally, though, djinn are powerful, frightening creatures. Like men and angels, they have free will. Some use their supernatural abilities to help mankind, while others are devils. But always they are terrifying to human eyes. Ironhide and Optimus especially remind me of djinn."
I chuckled. "Okay, yeah, I can see that."
"I don't know how you can walk so casually among them," he added.
"It's not like they'd step on me or anything."
He half-smiled. "They are alien, other. Whether they're machines or djinn, they are not human. I understand that these Autobots are friends to humanity, but I will never spend a minute near them without feeling either in awe or terror."
I blinked in surprise, trying to remember a time when I'd been afraid of them. Bumblebee…I'd called him Satan's Camaro. For that one day, I'd been afraid, mostly because he was so obviously after me specifically. But when I saw him fight Barricade for us, saw what he could have done to me and didn't…. Seeing him in action had only made me feel safe. Same thing with Optimus and the others. Terrifying to behold, but comforting once you knew them.
"I guess I've gotten used to them," I said.
Al-Sharif shook his head slightly in disbelief. "You have lived a remarkable life."
The lift door opened, and I chuckled as I stepped out. "That, Ensign, is an understatement."
…
The Chinese military leaders asked many of the same questions the UN Security Council and NATO had – who were these aliens in the cargo hold, how were they connected with the aliens who attacked, what were their combat capabilities. And, of course, how could I stand to be near them. I answered the question as best I could, trying to explain just how I could see them as my friends.
One grizzled general asked Major Lennox if these were the same aliens who had fought in Shanghai, and he confirmed that they were.
"There are two new ones listed here," the general said through a translator. "And one that is omitted. Is it accounted for?"
"Bumblebee had been on assignment elsewhere during the operation in Shanghai," Lennox explained, "and Jolt is a recent arrival to Earth. The missing one is Arcee, and…she died at Giza."
WHAT?! I glanced at Lennox, but he was still looking at the general on the video screen.
I couldn't pay much attention to the rest of the meeting. Why hadn't anyone told me? I'd known she was a tripartite 'bot – that the three parts of her were controlled by a single mind. Two of her components had been destroyed, but I distinctly remembered the third one was still online when we ran. How did she die?
We broke for lunch a little before one o'clock, and I pulled Lennox aside. "What happened to Arcee? Her blue component was still alive."
He frowned, his eyes hard. "She didn't make it out ahead of the carpet bombing."
My heart sank and I looked up at the ceiling. "They didn't say anything."
"They didn't want you to know yet. Optimus wanted to be the one to tell you, but he said the time wasn't right. Her death is need-to-know. I haven't even told my wife or Mikaela yet, and Sarah was almost as close to Arcee as I am to Ironhide. Many of my superiors don't know, but Optimus authorized me to tell if anyone asked me point blank. He didn't want to ask me to lie for him."
So that's why she hadn't been with the rest of the Autobots. The gutsy femme who'd run into the heart of the battle for me – who charged a 'con after it had blown off the head of one of her components – was dead. Ironhide got his cannon back and Jetfire would live on in Optimus, but Arcee…was extinguished.
