A/N: OMP, guys, thank you. I'm glad you liked Barricade in GE! Like, really. Nah, not telling anything yet, though Cade ain't a bad guy. Not much of a bad gut anyways, haha.

Sorry for playing on your feelings, dudes too~! And I'm glad Sunny is liked by you! It means a lot~

SPECIAL THANKS TO: 1-Valkyrie-1, Edges05, MysticFire101, AutobotCopperShadow, Seni Prodi AND Janewatson99 FOR REVIEWING!

I don't know what happened, but I didn't see the reviews. Don't worry, guys, I got them now, it must have been a glitch I guess. I also had a really rough time, dealing with anxiety and all that stuff, ya know? I wanted to just give up the story, so...yeah, have a chapter and I hope I'll be able to get another one soon, but if not, it's probably because something stopped meh.

Thanks for staying with me, though! It means a lot~!

So now on, let's get this short chap over, yeah?

DISCLAIMER: Idk, you all know I only own the plot and OCs.

Chapter 9: I was wrong.

"It gets weirder only because you don't want to believe in it." He answered with a shrug, sitting on the edge of the table, looking down at her. She cleared her throat at that, slowly standing up from her seat, until she was looking right into his eyes, now that he was sitting and she was his height.

"You are an alien." She started. "From space."

"If you put it that way, Fleshy, then yes." He tilted his head.

"Then you're not called 'Cade'."

He smirked. "No. My designation is Barricade."

Bridgette stared at him, her grey eyes never leaving his red ones as she thought of what she was told. It was hard to wrap her mind around it, especially with her being a person that was taught that if something was illogical it was simply wrong.

She looked lower after a minute of silence, though. Only now noticing the strange symbol on his chest where the police logo should be. It was purple robo-dog-like face to her.

"Why do I have a feeling there's more story to it?" She asked quietly.

"Because, Human." Barricade leaned back. "There are millennia of war to tell about." She seemed to stiff in front of him, blood freezing in her veins. His smirk, on the other hand, only grew. "Ever heard of famous two sides? The bad guys and the good ones?"

Please, please, don't tell me he's the bad one. Please, Lord, please…

"What are you getting on?" It was hard to speak clearly, not to stutter, when her heart seemed to beat so fast she thought she was going to faint. It was an impossible situation; she was fine just seconds ago. Was it a possibility it was just too much for one day?

Barricade stood up, yet she never looked up. "The war split for two fractions: Decepticons and Autobots." She forced down a shudder. "It also depends on which story you want to believe in, because some say the Decepticons are the evil ones, and the other side tells an opposite."

She gulped, her hands sweating.

"And which side…"

"Neither."

That one, coated in venom word, made her snap her head up, eyes widening when the smirk she saw disappeared. She blinked. "I don't…I believe I don't follow." She admitted.

"I defected." He said. "I joined Decepticons long time ago and defected couple months ago. I'm no longer part of them."

Bridgette just stared. She was good at understanding things, but in that case, what is he? Why is he here? Playing human, when he's a giant robot? More important, why did he defect in the first place?

She wanted to ask 'why', but she held back. Even though she was curious, it was none of her business. She knew. Her parents liked to remind her where her place was and asking random people about their choices was just…not something she was taught to do.

"That's…surprising, I guess." She said slowly, uncrossing her arms.

He raised an eyebrow. "That's all you have to say?"
"What do you want me to say?" She almost let out a snort. "I…I don't know who I should even believe in. Giant robotic mechanisms from…from space? Is this a joke? Is there a secret camera hidden somewhere that's recording all this nonsense?"

Oh no.

This was a wrong thing to say.

It was, she knew the second the smirk the man had grown bigger and positively feral that she shouldn't have said that.

"Human,"

She swallowed saliva down her throat as he stood up, his crimson eyes glowed down at her.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear that from you."

She only had the time to widen her own eyes as he gripped her hand tightly, making her flinch at the contact and pulled her after him and out of the door, slamming them. She blinked when she was forced into the car and…and…

Oh dear God, she thought.

There was no driver. A man…Barricade…he just disappeared. Yet the vehicle roared its engine, the steering wheel moved itself and they peeled of the sidewalk onto the street. She was this close to having a heart attack when she was slammed in the door as they took a sharp turn and there it was. This moment she so desperately tried to avoid.

That pure panic she felt as she stared at the speed meter, seeing the numbers go up and when she accidently looked out of the window, she felt nauseous at the sight of blurry asphalt.

She straightened herself up in her seat, gripping the leather as if it were her lifeboat, digging her nails there. The car gave out a growl at that, but she was frozen' fear filled her veins and her breath hitched.

She couldn't do it.

They were going too fast. They were going to crash.

She didn't know when she started to breathe faster and uneven. Or when she started to feel lightheaded. It was just so quick.

No, no, no, no…

She knew it was stupid. She would get scolded by her Mother for panicking about it. Yet she couldn't stop herself. She was just scared. So, so scared.

We're going to crash, we're going to crash, we'regoingtocrash,we'regoingtocrash,ohmygod, please stop, stop, stop,stop,stop!

So weak, she was so goddamn pathetic.

She heard a distant voice call and tried to make out words, but it was like a static in her mind. She saw a wall, they neared to it. That was what she thought. And that was her breaking point. She couldn't take it anymore.

"No, no, please!" The tears she tried to hide begin to stream down her face. "F-for the love o-of God, stop!" She sobbed out.

It was too close.

She felt like vomiting, dying and passing out. There was a sudden rush of air, something shifted. She knew he wouldn't stop, why would he? But then she was thrown out of the car and caught by something warm, black yet metallic and hard.

And that was the last thing she knew before the darkness enveloped her.

Young, dark-haired girl looked blankly at the piece of paper in front of her, before she returned her gaze towards the grey-eyed teen that smiled at her. "What is this?"

He laughed. "A new hobby of you, of course."

She tilted her head to the right, bored. "I do not need one."

"Everyone needs one." He said, placing a pen on the table next to the paper. "You can write down anything: feelings, thoughts, everything. Right here. On this." He tapped the table in front of her and she only stared at him.

Mom and Dad were never happy when she was busy with something else than home duties or homework. And when she wasn't and they caught her, they would often tell her to sit in her room for half the day without any food.

"What's the point of writing it down?" She asked finally, curiosity taking over. "What if someone reads it?"

His smile turned a bit sad. "Then they'd know the truth."

"What truth?" Was the only thing she could said before the teen disappeared into a thin air and suddenly there was a place change, a bright light and she was shoved on the dark pavement, landing hard on her knees.

Something behind her shifted. Then she heard a noise. There was a pang in her chest as she rubbed her legs, gritting her teeth at the pain she felt. She saw the blood running down her skin and onto the floor. She blinked. Once. Twice. There was a trail of cheery red in front of her.

And then there was a high-pitched sound almost like a horn of the car, before a green vehicle passed by her, making her widen her grey eyes and fall back. Then the car crashed.

She only saw the familiar smile in the fire, a whisper saying: "Save me", before she screamed at the sight of a skeleton coming her way, backing away.

Panicked, she tried to catch her breath and then there was nothing under her feet and she was falling, still screaming and kicking and just trying to make it all stop. There was shouting all around her, loud angry voices, telling her to "go to school", "go to buy alcohol" or just yelling at her for doing something wrong.

And then there was nothing.

"She's on top of her class." Prowl was saying, reading what was on the screen of his data-pad and marking what was important. "Seventeen, soon to be eighteen years old human; described as cold, unfeeling, unable to work in group; often seen with Sunny Donnelly; controlling parents known as Challia and Robert Evans…Jazz, are you even listening?"

The silver-haired man stopped eating his chocolate for a moment, looking over to Prowl. He had his legs crossed and placed on the desk his friend sat at. He looked awfully innocent. "Sure am, Prowler."

"Please, repeat what I said."

"Please, repeat wha' Ah said." He grinned cheekily. Prowl stared at him with hard eyes and Jazz winked at him, making him slightly look away from his visor. "Prowler, Ah know da gurl, she's a nice one."

"It doesn't necessary help me."

"Chill, man." He threw an empty box after chocolates and sat straighter. "We know somethin's wrong out there."

"And there is absolutely nothing that could point out what exactly." Prowl let out frustrated breath, looking at his notes. "Besides your observations, we don't have anything."

Jazz shrugged.

"We 'ave Bridgette."

The white-haired man glanced at him. "She doesn't want to cooperate." He said, though there was a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"Yeah, she changed 'er mind." The saboteur tapped one paragraph on the data-pad. "Cuz she was scared."

The Tactician stared at him for a moment, this bright blue visor made him look down on the pointed words.

'Dead brother'.

Jazz leaned back in his chair.

"And whatevah dat is dat's she's scared of, is connected to dat."

Prowl was still looking at those two words when Jazz left. And he admitted that the echo of them was with him when he was filling up the data-pads.

Dead brother, he mused, interesting.

Barricade was staring at the girl in his front seat for a while, before he decided to let her sleep it off and he just turned on a soft music on the radio, sighing and letting himself lower on his axes.

She was constantly shifting; little noises fell out of her lips occasionally. He wasn't a type to worry about things like that, much less worry over a human, yet…he couldn't shake off the feeling that somehow that girl was familiar. Especially her attitude.

He did remember someone like that.

He met plenty of people, yes, of course, and he was well aware that there are a lot of people like Bridgette Evans.

It was just something in her eyes, something he saw before; it was hidden beneath all that hurt and façade she put on.

He let out a sigh.

He just had to figure out what that mean, before something unexpected happens.