For a fleeting second, John Keller thinks he knows what was going through Banachek's head when he was trying to explain him about the Cybertronian's existence.
He quickly dismisses the thought almost physically, because what he's trying to do here is the opposite, to convince the President that the human-like creatures aren't weapons.
"So, if I've understood it right, you're telling me that the 'ultimate defense system' Sector Seven was developing is not some new weapon, or computer program or even a better anti-missile technology, but living beings? And sentient?" The man on the screen looks skeptical and, he thinks, a bit paler than he had been at first.
Keeping a tired sigh in, he simply nods.
"More so, the attack on the SOCCENT base in Qatar wasn't a stolen weapon, but an effort of those beings to, what? Rescue one of their own?" Another nod. "And the hack in the Defense network was done for the same purpose? To try and get what they needed to be free once and for all?" The skepticism and disbelief grows, and the Secretary decides this is not going to end well.
The President is too caught on Sector Seven's story and… well. If he hadn't seen them himself, he would hardly believe the Cybertronian were real either.
"Sir, please, wait a minute." He cuts with a raised hand when the other man seems ready to keep going. "Soundwave, right? Can you ask your leaders to join me, please?" The President looks at him with confusion, for he hasn't looked away from the screen.
After a minute of silence, in which the most powerful man in the USA has started to fidget and grow impatient, the door at his back opens.
He can't help the relieved sigh escaping through his lips as he sees the creatures he asked for entering calmly, standing tall and proud and, to his surprise, unarmored.
Optimus is dressed almost too casually, with that brightly colored jacket with the flame pattern, while Megatron is almost the opposite, his uniform following the pattern of the one he's seen on three of his officers, combining brown-gray tones and with knee-high boots, a calf-long broad-shouldered coat with the flaps, the upper part of the pockets and the shoulders covered by metal plating, and what looks like a Commander's hat with the Decepticon's insignia on his head.
They both still have the metallic plates in place of their ears visible, something he's starting to believe isn't simply capable of change, with the red-eyed being's jawline metal addition and forehead plates still there.
Unlike before, though, their eyes have black pupils despite their irises still being their bright and glowing red and blue, respectively.
When the CON smirks at him, sharp teeth glint almost ominously.
"Yes, his designation is Soundwave." He comments simply as they stop next to him in front of the monitor, one on each side.
The President's jaw falls open as his eyes widen.
He has half a mind to ask them to change to their armored selves, just to see the other man's reaction, but decides against it.
As much as he needs some stress relief, getting it from outright laughing at the President won't end well for him.
"Sir, let me introduce you to High Protector Megatron and Optimus PRIME." He says instead, lifting a hand to gesture at the other two, whom he sees nod at their names from the corner of his eyes. "They are the leaders of the two Divisions of the Cybertronian, the Decepticon and the Autobot, respectively. Or, as we would call them, Combat Operations and Combat Service Support."
"What are those things on their…" The man mutters softly, gesturing to the side of his head.
"Those would be receptors, Mister President." Optimus answers politely, something that makes the still dumbfounded man on the screen stiffen. "Mainly audio receptors, although some of us have other specially designed functions in, or involving, them."
"Ears?"
"Basically."
They stay silent for a second, while the President gets over his surprise.
"How did you… How did you call them here?" He asks Keller once he's calmer, and the Secretary finds himself debating between telling the whole truth or telling a part of the truth that wouldn't let reality shine through.
"One of my CONs is monitoring this meeting." Megatron answers instead, straightening almost menacingly.
"What?!"
"It's their future at stake, Mister President." The Secretary of Defense cuts through, before the Decepticon leader can do or say something hasty that will get them all in trouble. "I promised they would be informed of everything that we talked about, and letting them monitor our conversation was the easiest solution." Mostly because they would have done so anyway, but the President doesn't need to know that, not at the moment.
"Why not have them here from the very start, then?"
"Because I preferred to be able to explain the situation to you calmly before you were introduced. It can be… quite a shock, even though the circumstances are peaceful this time."
"Have there been more attacks like the SOCCENT base?" The man asks darkly, glaring at the other two, and the Secretary curses himself in his head.
Megatron tenses, but Optimus chirps a single time, making the CON freeze in place.
The President, once more, looks startled.
"Sir, I assure you there have been no other incidents like that of Qatar, but there has been a riot in Sector Seven's base, during which we took control of Hoover Dam and freed those of us still alive. We will not apologize for either, though, for we were fighting for our lives in both instances, even if what happened at the SOCCENT base could have been avoided."
"You have your dear Sector Seven to thank for that one, for they were the ones who directed my CONs there with fake information." The red-eyed creature adds with a low and slightly rumbling voice, dipping his head so that shadows fall on his face and his irises shine ominously.
The President's expression is that of a lack of balance, going from confusion to outrage to disbelief and to curiosity, circling over and over.
"I explained the situation already, Mister President. They've been Sector Seven's Guinea pigs since they were born, tortured and killed and enslaved because people thought they could. They are not humans, we all know that, but can you look them in the eye and tell them they deserved what they went through? That none of us would have fought as they did?" He asks softly, yet with strength in his voice, and prays.
The President leans back in his chair, looking pensive as he looks from red eyes to blue and back again.
When the man's gaze goes to Megatron's metal-covered shoulders and his face darkens, Keller feels as if the ground has started to tremble.
They are not humans, but where the Secretary sees people, the President sees weapons.
The door opens and chirping immediately fills the room.
All of them turn to look at the newcomers, and John Keller's eyes widen in surprise.
The twins and the yellow-clad Autobot walk inside, carrying some cups and speaking happily.
Armor-less as they are, they look… like children.
When they get to their side, the CONs hand the cups they're carrying to the Cybertronian while the BOT gives him his own.
He just has to inhale to recognize the beverage inside as honeyed chamomile tea, the sweet tint barely noticeable, but more than enough to give the liquid a unique flavor.
Just like he drinks it.
He looks at the happily smiling teenager-like creature, and can't help his own smile.
"Thank you… Bumblebee, right?"
"And we have a winner!" An exaggeratedly happy deep voice exclaims as the yellow-clad BOT beams, getting a chuckle out of him.
"Was that the radio?" The President exclaims and, feeling the pieces click in his head with a wave of respect to the CON monitoring them, he turns to the screen again.
"It is, Sir. You see, Bumblebee here was subjected to an experiment that damaged his voice box to the point he's incapable of human speech, so their medic repaired him to be able to use stereo to communicate." He explains, feeling a hint of satisfaction course through his veins at the horror flashing through the man's face as the youngest Autobot leans against Optimus' side with a look that would be better suited for a kicked puppy. "The poor child was lucky his companions revolted to get him the necessary medical help, because Sector Seven just threw him aside to let him die."
"Child?" The President's voice sounds strangled, and Keller's answer is lost as the twins push past him to stand on their toes in front of the screen.
The man on the other side yelps at the sudden appearance of the four pairs of completely blue eyes in the curious childish faces.
Megatron grabs the back of their collars and pulls them back with startled squeaks.
And then, to the Secretary's surprise, he lifts them to his sides, letting them rest on his hips like one would a toddler.
In his arms, and with the childish pouts and too wide eyes, they look a lot younger.
"Frenzy, Rumble. Scaring the President is not a good thing to do." He admonishes patiently, and the twins huddle in his embrace, eyes seemingly widening even more.
"We s-s-s-sorry." They answer in unison, voices thin and weak, and still stuttering in that way that makes Keller think of his own children when they were just starting to learn to form sentences. "We want s-s-s-say hello and thanks, b-b-b-because President give us n-n-n-new home all t-t-t-together."
Against everything telling him those are dangerous soldiers with no remorse for killing or any other underhanded tricks to get what they want—and he has seen proof, there were two bodies left behind in the Air Force One hacking—John Keller can't keep his heart from melting.
Because, human or not, deadly or not, they still curled around Soundwave like his own kids had done during thunderstorms. Capable warriors as they are, they are still children, and the youngest of the group, too.
And one of them had almost been killed already, from what they were told.
"Frenzy." Both twins turn to him, but only the silvery one nods, his pout turning to a look of almost naive curiosity. "They said you got hurt badly, should you really be running around?" He asks, and the worry in his voice is more genuine than he first thought it would be.
For a second, the child-like being doesn't answer, surprised, before he puffs out his chest with a look of pride only a kid would be capable of.
"I s-s-s-strong, Keller-Sir!" He answers almost cockily, tapping his chest before curling into himself with a pained squeak. "I… hit s-s-s-something not strong as r-r-r-rest." He adds with a grimace, curling into Megatron's embrace, who quickly presses him close and starts whispering in his audio receptors, his twin leaning forward to embrace him.
"Hurt? A child?" The President exclaims in shock, and the Secretary winces, not sure if what has just happened is an act or the truth.
"He's one of the two they sent for the escapees." He answers simply, approaching the CONs and rubbing circles on the kid-like being's back when no one stops him. "Sorry, Frenzy, I shouldn't have asked."
"You n-n-n-nice." The rust-red twin answers instead, looking up at him with eyes shining with feelings he can't identify. "Other humans n-n-n-never ask, just…" He shivers and curls into the shoulder he's leaning against, and Megatron's soothing rumbling turns dangerous as he glares at a wall.
"You n-n-n-nice." Frenzy repeats, slowly looking up at the Secretary. "President n-n-n-nice. I b-b-b-bad, I in p-p-p-plane, get info and get s-s-s-seen. I h-h-h-hurt people. But President n-n-n-nice, let a-a-a-all together."
"He was the one to hack into Air Force One?" The man on the screen asks softly, stunned and conflicted. "He was the one who killed two of my men? But… he's a kid…"
"Decepticon programming does not allow them to leave witnesses alive, Mister President." Optimus answers, somber, as he cradles the yellow-clad youngster to his side, antennae-like appendages lowered to accentuate the pained look on his face.
"But Keller's still…"
Alive. That's how the sentence ends.
And suddenly, he realizes that's the truth, and fear grabs his innards in a cold and tight grip.
"He hasn't left our side yet. There has always been a CON with the witnesses since we met." Megatron answers, and it's the truth, for the Decepticons divided equally between the two helicopters, and with Soundwave monitoring all those in the base they're in, they have yet to get out of their sight. "And the Autobots are here too. Human relationships outside the chain of command are their jurisdiction, so as long as we're together, your people has nothing to fear. If any of them were to try to get out from our sights without the proper notice to the Autobots, though, it would be automatically identified as a witness going to rendezvous with their people instead of a collaborator." His red eyes are dull as they look at the pale and shaking man onscreen, and Keller barely keeps his fear at bay. "There would be no stopping our programming then, unless an Autobot managed to get a message to all my troops or we were deactivated."
Silence falls over them, and the President looks fearfully at the table under his trembling hands, not really seeing it.
"I will not apologize, Mister President." Megatron continues after almost two minutes, when the man has calmed down enough to look at them again. "I can't apologize for our programming any more than you can for a tornado." His voice is empty, dull, and Keller shudders.
He sounds defeated.
Whatever they do, however this ends, the Decepticons will always be trapped, will always feel the grasp Sector Seven has on them, just like a human will always feel his lungs fill with air.
It can stop for some time, can be stopped by force of will, but, eventually, they will always breath again.
Even when they are free, they are still slaves.
"I do not know if Secretary Keller got to the point of requesting of you what we did of him, Mister President, so I apologize if I am repeating something you have already heard." Optimus' voice is soft, almost pleading in the silence that follows, and, slowly, the man onscreen turns to him with wide eyes, still shocked but listening attentively. "We are aware of our differences, of the danger we pose to your people. We understand your indecision, your doubts, for we care for our own as you do yours. But we are alive, and sentient. We want to live." The President shivers softly, and the Secretary isn't sure if he's shivering too or not, all his attention on the Autobot instead of his own body. "We ask for a place to be in, together, free. An area, someplace restricted, where we can stay in and be ourselves, without chains, without worries. An abandoned military base and its premises, perhaps, or a small uninhabited island, if you wish. We can have contact with humans, so long as you use regulations as those applied to your military, for all contact with those outside our area will go through the Autobots before being cleared. We are not worse than your average citizen, Mister President, with some of us being trained soldiers with all that entails. There can be peace, life. We both just have to agree that we are different, and act accordingly."
A minute goes by in silence, followed by another, and another. No one moves, only soft breathing being heard.
And then, the President lets out a shuddering sigh and straightens in his seat.
"I'll convene with the Senate, let them know of the situation, and we'll get back to you as soon as something is decided." He answers softly, trying to sound calm, but his voice is still shaking. "And…" He looks away, hands turning to fists on his desk. "For all it's worth, I'm sorry."
The screen turns black.
A second later, the twins start chirping so suddenly and excitedly that Keller jumps back in surprise.
"Indeed. That sounded very promising." Optimus chuckles, returning the blinding grins of the youngsters with a more sedate but not less happy smile, hugging the yellow-clad one as he embraces his middle.
"Was it all an act? All that about Decepticon programming?" The Secretary asks, stunned, and the laughter dies as quickly as it started.
Sad blue eyes land on him while red ones shining with helplessness move to stare at the ground.
"It was not." The Autobot leader answers softly, looking at the three CONs still in each others' grasp. "We have been trying to delete that coding, or modify it at the very least, but it is deeply ingrained in their matrix. Now, however, if our request is granted and the necessary material obtained, we will be able to work more freely, and, hopefully, all the stains left from the Slavers' manipulations will be cleaned."
"I really s-s-s-sorry." The silvery twin whispers, looking up at the human from where he's still curled against his leader's shoulder. "We h-h-h-here, Soundwave s-s-s-said it good f-f-f-for President. But I really s-s-s-sorry about plane. I b-b-b-bad CON, b-b-b-bad LS-OFC-IP."
"No, Frenzy. You were good. It wasn't your fault the information wasn't there, it wasn't your fault those men found you. You were good, you did all you could, and you didn't kill Bumblebee's human. You survived, you helped me. If you hadn't helped Barricade, if you hadn't helped the Autobots… We're here because of you." Megatron whispers, nuzzling the spiky silvery head, and the kid-like being presses even tighter against him, shivering. "And that oil you brought me was of excellent quality. It really helped me a lot to keep a level head."
Keller's eyes grow wider, and he looks down at his cup of tea, but he doesn't need to touch it to know it has gone cold.
A cool yet warm hand grabs his own, and he turns to see a smiling Bumblebee tugging softly of him towards the door.
"This Friday night, do it all again!" The music sounds as he follows, the hand never leaving his, and, soon enough, a smaller one grabs his free one, and he looks down to meet four blue eyeballs and rusty-red hair, with a silvery figure bouncing happily on the other side.
"I t-t-t-try make human d-d-d-drink now!"
"No, I t-t-t-try!"
"Anything you can do I can do better; I can do anything better than you."
"Can n-n-n-not!"
Keller laughs softly, looking over his shoulder to see the two adult Cybertronian follow with warm smiles, and finally relaxes, letting himself be dragged by the youngsters as he listens to their bickering.
Damn, he has never wanted grandchildren as much as this instant.
William Lennox doesn't know if he should laugh or cry, so he just stays stunned some more.
"What?!" Sam exclaims shrilly, and that's all that's needed for motion to start again.
The two woman shriek as they cover their eyes, Glen Whitman looks almost as scared as when they were in the middle of the shootout at the Dam, and the Witwicky boy is fighting really hard to keep his eyes from looking over Barricade, who is leaning against the wall with an amused smirk.
The kid's failing spectacularly, something the CON seems to find even more amusing the longer it goes on.
After a blink, the ranger turns to Ironhide, lounging on the seat next to him and snickering softly, before looking to the other side, where Epps is sitting next to an outright laughing Blackout. Brawl and Bonecrusher, who despite being unarmored occupy a whole couch, are having a not too innocent-sounding conversation in Cybertronian, dark smirks on their faces.
Their uniforms are more like Will's own than the rest of the Decepticons, with the exception of the color, the same as their armors, and the heavy-looking and fully loaded vests filled with pockets, belt clips equally charged, cargo pants with seemingly even more pockets than Ironhide's and boots that look as heavy as concrete slabs. Furthermore, Brawl wears a big squared backpack and a helm, now hanging on his back from the strap around his neck, while Bonecrusher has the same kind of backpack and his arms encased in enough metal to make them look twice as thick, although they're human length now.
The green-clad man has a single plate growing from where his ears should be, extending down to frame his cheeks, and up to cover the upper part of his forehead, making Lennox think of one of those helmets those Martial Arts fighters wear. Taekwondo? Judo? One of those.
The dark yellow one, instead, has kept the fan-like plates on his forehead, and has disks instead of ears, from which extend a band connecting them from around the back of his head, small pointy protuberances growing towards his jaw line.
There are soft snickers from the opposite couch, where Jazz is lying on his back with his head on an unarmored Ratchet's lap. The silvery BOT is the only one still armored, because the medic has forbidden him changing back until his injuries are further healed. Now that his body is cleaned, though, they all wonder how he was even able to keep conscious back at Hoover Dam, because only the plating on the upper chest has a mesh pattern, but if they didn't known better they would have said it extends to his lower torso too, so many welds and seams still shining brightly in contrast to the normal plating, along far too many pieces that had to be replaced.
Ravage, Laserbeak and Scorponok, sitting on the ground against the legs of the CONs on the couch, laugh loudly, still in their armored forms with the latter in animal per medic's orders, for they only have this and their animal-like forms. To see the red-colored youngster change into a giant vulture-like beast capable of flight left them without words for five very long minutes, for they had seen Ravage's panther-like form briefly during the scuffle at the Dam, but not his brother's. They can't wait to see the scorpion-like creature's child-like form.
The third and last couch, between the two occupied by the Cybertronian and in front of the chairs the rangers are sitting on, closing their square, is where the two teenagers and the Secretary's assistants are sitting, and is, currently, the self-appointed 'Couch of the Self-Conscious', judging by their reactions.
Starscream, once more in his uniform and still showing off those wing-like structures on his back, snorts from where he's perched on the back of the Autobot's couch, arms crossed against his chest, before exchanging a smirk with an immutable Soundwave, standing at his side.
"What? Did you think our armors were some kind of addition?" The Decepticon First Lieutenant asks, thoroughly amused, with his voice still lower and raspier than the first time they heard it, but at least without white noise or static in it anymore.
"Well, I didn't really think about it being part of you! About your clothes being you!" Sam shrieks, and Will finally decides that laughing is better than the alternative, so he starts chuckling, Epps quickly following his example. "And why are you laughing?! We're in a room with a bunch of naked people!" The teenager shouts, pointing an accusing finger at the rangers, who just laugh harder.
"Please, it isn't as if we have genitalia to go showing around." The medic chides with a roll of his eyes, cuffing Jazz softly on top of his head when his laughter grows to the point he starts curling into himself. "And you be still. I'm not patching you again, lest of all so soon after last time. I've seen enough of your entrails for the year, thank you very much." The Cybertronian laugh louder at that, with even the green-haired being breaking into a smile, and the soldiers follow suit, to the astonishment of the civilians.
"Oh God…" Glen squeaks, looking horrified at the two Autobots but unable to rip his gaze off of them. "He has his head on his—" Maggie quickly shuts him up with a shrill scream, almost immediately drowned by the new bout of laughter.
"Humans." Barricade snorts, moving from his spot on the wall behind the rangers to lean against the back of Blackout's chair, resting his arms on the taller creature's shoulders and his chin on his head, a lazy smirk on his face. "They act so modest and embarrassed now, yet they exchange internal fluids through their mouth in broad daylight and in the middle of the street."
A loud chorus of disgusted sounds and some clicking that would translate into curses erupts in the room from all Cybertronian, reactions going from the sickly looks on the two CONs on the couch and the gagging motions of the youngsters, to the pale and horrified look on Ratchet's face and Soundwave's tense stance and twitching brow.
"Are you fragging serious?!" Ironhide exclaims, making Will wince at his loud voice, fingers curling and uncurling as if he's not sure what to do with them, glaring at Barricade.
The cop-looking being nods, making Blackout's shocked and unresponsive head follow the movement without eliciting a response from him.
"There I was, walking down the street, when suddenly I see those two younglings their age on the hood of a car." He explains making a vague gesture towards Sam and Mikaela, his eyes lost on the wall, although unseeing, as his face distorts with a disgusted grimace. "They were just there lying on it, slipping down and having to slide up again all the time, and looking as if trying to bite each others face off, all those trails of fluid on their lips and tongues and—"
"Gross, gross, gross!" Laserbeak squeaks, shaking his hands as if to get rid of some kind of liquid on them. "Stop it!"
"I was sure I was going to purge right there and then. Took me almost a full hour to convince Frenzy I wasn't malfunctioning. The only good thing was that he slept through all of it." The CON continues, thankfully, for the rest, skipping what Lennox is starting to think is a kiss.
Or a make out session, to be more accurate, but he's too busy keeping his amusement to a smile.
"Seriously, what is it with humans? Such contradictory creatures… So shy for some things and so… whatever the word is for some others. What's next? Interfacing on the street?" Bonecrusher scowls, shivering a bit.
"Well…"
"NO!"
Will can't help but laugh at the unanimous shout from every Cybertronian in the room at Barricade's simple word, and the rest of humans follow suit.
A hand landing softly on his shoulder helps him calm down, though he's still smiling widely as he looks up into Soundwave's empty, yet somehow looking softer, face.
"Yeah? What is it?" He asks between snickers, and the CON just points at the computer on one corner of the room.
There's a program running, some kind of video-call, and the message flickering on it informs them that someone's waiting on the other end of the line for an answer.
After a blink, he sits up sharply, eyes wide, before looking at the white-haired creature, who nods and makes a vague shooing motion.
Not answering to Ironhide or Epps' questions, he stands up and goes to the waiting computer almost in a trance.
He lets himself fall on the chair and takes a couple of deep breaths before accepting the call.
Sarah's worried face immediately brightens and Lennox feels a weight he hadn't know was there get off his chest.
"Oh, Will." His wife sobs, her watery smile quickly covered by a hand as the other cradles Annabelle against her chest.
Before he can answer, someone calls him at his back.
After a quick look over his shoulder, Optimus approaches, keeping out of view from the screen.
"I apologize for the intrusion." He sees Sarah frown fearfully from the corner of his eye as he makes to stand, but a raised hand stops him. "This is not a matter to worry about, do not despair. Since we have to await the decision of the President and your unit is to stay here, we have negotiated with the Secretary of Defense to find suitable arrangements for those in the base." Which means the Cybertronian, the humans from Hoover Dam and the bare minimum of the base's own personnel. "We would like to invite your wife and daughter to join you here for the next days. They would be escorted here by members of the military, and, whatever your Government's decision is in the matter at hand, all of you will be allowed to go back to your lives once it is announced." Stunned, Will looks at his wife, who is as wide-eyed as him, indicating she has heard everything. "If we were to receive a positive answer now, they would be here by nightfall." The Autobot continues, and the ranger's breathing hitches at the words, for it would mean less than three hours.
Sarah lets out an overwhelmed sob before smiling and nodding, and the Captain doesn't even have to look back at the Cybertronian to know the order has already been given.
"They will be there in thirty minutes to pick them up."
And even as the call is cut, the last image one of his wife almost overwhelmed with joy, Will feels himself as if soaring.
The first thing he does when he gets back to the group, now conversing more calmly about topics that don't make them look sick, is embrace Soundwave as tightly as he can, eliciting a squeak from the CON and mouths opened so wide that a whole aircraft carrier could have gone inside.
Oh, yes. The future is starting to look up.
AN: Alright... Now, this was supposed to be the last chapter. Read: WAS.
Somehow, an Epilogue made its way in... and the rabid plot bunny-like thing that spawned this came along with it.
So, now I have an Epilogue that wants to be a Chapter and a story that keeps unfolding. Dangerously.
The current trouble I'm finding myself in now is what to do with the rest of the story. Because it refuses to just stay down.
Options are: A) Post the Epilogue-Chapter and keep publishing like always. B) Post the Epilogue as an Epilogue and post the rest on a separate fanfic.
Whether I end up choosing one or the other depends on how the rest of the story gets itself written. Because right now, it looks to me like it will be a series of drabbles/scenes/short stories until the next major plot (or the next thickening of the plot, because, even if it is in drabbles/short-kind-of-independent chapters, it will keep unravelling).
One possible idea is to post the Epilogue, post a next fanfic where the in-between main-plot scenes/stories will be posted, and get the next main event on yet another fic. Another is to keep posting on this, with the 'interludes' either on their own or a couple on each chapter, depending on size, and marked as thus.
Final decision is mine (actually not, because the rabid plot bunny-thing always has the last word) but I will appreciate suggestions, ideas, criticism, etc.
Be aware, next chapter/epilogue won't be posted until I know how I will continue this, so it may take a bit... (Not a threat/begging for reviews/whatever, just a fair warning. The rest still has to be written, after all).
The songs Bumblebee uses are Katy Perry's Last Friday Night and Anything you can do I can do better, from the movie Annie Get Your Gun.
