Author's Note: Whew, barely under the wire with this one! It's still Sunday where I am, so technically I did manage to post this weekend. ;) This chapter fought me the whole way, and I kind of had to wrestle it onto the page, but hopefully it's not too terrible – if a little boring. This should be our last filler, because our little trio of Autobot misfits have just hit Chicago.
Chapter 11: Where No One Goes
After leaving the parking lot of the small bar at the edge of Hinckley, they continued east toward the Colorado border, weaving through towns no bigger than a few miles from end to end and avoiding the larger thoroughfares. After several hours of doing nothing but staring out the window, Mikaela gave in to the urge of sleep.
The mechanic had slept fitfully, head lolling uncomfortably against the headrest as she swam in between unconsciousness and wakefulness for nearly four hours. The next time that she awoke fully, the bright blue clock on Sideswipe's dash read 6:35am and the sun was just beginning to crest the horizon. She stretched with a small groan, sighing in satisfaction when her back popped in all the right places, and turned to her side to see Ratchet, propped up between his seat and the door of Sideswipe's alt. mode, head tilted against the window and face curiously absent of his trademark scowl. He was fast asleep.
Mikaela grinned.
"Oh good, someone is awake," Sideswipe remarked dryly.
"Sorry," Mikaela whispered offhandedly. "Long drives are boring, but I probably don't have to tell you that. Where are we now?"
"We're just crossing the Utah/Colorado border," the frontliner responded somewhat tiredly. "Twenty hours to go."
Mikaela winced, dreading the thought of spending another whole day and night in the somewhat cramped interior of Sideswipe's alt. mode. She glanced over when Ratchet shifted in his sleep, his hair slipping over his shoulder before trailing down his back, earning a shudder from the unconscious CMO.
"He doesn't like being in vehicles," Sideswipe mumbled, as though anticipating the direction that the mechanic's thoughts were heading in.
"I noticed. How long's he been asleep?" Mikaela asked.
"A couple hours now," Sideswipe chuckled. "He fought it, but I guess being a human means you can't forcefully ignore your recharge warnings. I think it pisses him right off."
"I'll bet," Mikaela grinned. "But it's good for him."
"Damn right," Sideswipe grunted. "Damned impossible to get the Pit-forsaken medic to recharge otherwise."
"Damned impossible for the Pit-forsaken medic to sleep while you two are chatting like two femmes at an energon party," Ratchet grumbled suddenly, sitting up and dragging a hand over his face.
"Shit, I'm sorry," Mikaela said, wincing. "I didn't even know we were talking that loud."
"Sorry Hatchet," Sideswipe mumbled at the same time as Mikaela, having the good grace to sound ashamed.
"It was time for me to wake regardless," Ratchet waved them off. "We just crossed the Colorado border?"
"Yeah, we're coming up to a town called Grand Junction here around the next bend," Sideswipe supplied, just as they crested the hill that overlooked a large valley below.
The mountains of Colorado surged upward before them, awash in deep blues and purples that stood out in sharp relief to the vibrant, cloudless cerulean sky. Heat was already beginning to rise from the asphalt road in waves, creating a watery effect across the surface of the highway and Mikaela soaked up the rising sun through the driver's side window like a sponge.
The vague familiarity of the landscape brought a small smile to Mikaela's face and she sat back in her seat, reaching behind her to fish some food out of one of their bags. She pulled a bag of granola forward with a triumphant grin and quickly proceeded to stuff a handful of it into her mouth before looking over and offering the open bag to Ratchet.
The CMO shook his head with a deep breath, grimacing at the proffered food.
"Aren't you hungry?" Mikaela asked, frowning.
Ratchet shook his head slowly, making it a point to avoid looking at the bag of granola Mikaela was still holding in his direction.
"But it's healthy," she tried again, finally pulling the bag back when Ratchet shook his head at her a third time, this time shooting her a venomous look as well.
He took another deep breath and reached over to compress the button that allowed the Porsche's window to slide downward into the gap in the door. Mikaela frowned.
"You okay, Ratch?"
"Fine," Ratchet said, leaning against the door and letting the fresh air whip through his hair.
"Are you sure?" Mikaela pressed. "You look pale."
"Your heart rate is a little high," Sideswipe commented helpfully and Ratchet scowled at the console.
"I am fine," he bit out.
Ratchet paled even further when Sideswipe took a curve in the road rather quickly and realization dawned upon Mikaela. She knew exactly what was wrong, even if the stubborn CMO refused to admit it. Ratchet was carsick. She smiled slightly at the irony, patting his shoulder sympathetically and grinning at the somewhat puzzled look he threw her in response.
"Sideswipe, any gas stations coming up?" she ventured, ignoring the look she got from the medic. "I need to grab a couple of things and make a pit stop."
"There's one in about thirteen miles in the direction we're headed," Sideswipe said.
Ratchet looked for a moment as though he would protest, opening his mouth to form a retort, but thought better of it and simply leaned back against the door with a sigh, closing his eyes tightly.
He remained in that position until Sideswipe slowed down several moments later to pull into the parking lot of a decent sized Shell gas station. As soon as they had pulled into a parking space, Ratchet reached down and deftly unbuckled his seat belt.
"This time I am going in with you," he said to Mikaela in a tone that brooked no argument. "So we will not have a repeat of your last excursion."
"I can take care of myself," Mikaela said, rolling her eyes.
"Yes, as evidenced by your split lip and nearly broken nose."
"Hey, that wasn't even close to what that asshole came out with," Mikaela reasoned. "Besides, it's not like this is another bar. It's just a gas station and I -"
"Do not argue with me," Ratchet said evenly, climbing out of his side of the Porsche and coming around to stand by her door, cutting the mechanic off before she could finish her sentence. "That is final."
The CMO kept his hand on her shoulder as he steered her through the corner store and to the restrooms located at the back. He glared icily at the two male clerks behind the counter, one of which had the guts to look at Mikaela for about three seconds too long, in his opinion. Mikaela snorted in derisive humor as the clerk with the staring problem had the good grace to look fearful in the shadow of Ratchet's glare and shrank back slightly behind the counter.
They reached the bathroom doors and Mikaela stopped, turning to regard the CMO dubiously.
"You're not following me all the way in, are you?" she asked warily. "You're waiting out here, right?"
Ratchet fixed her with a deadpanned, slightly unimpressed stare. "Of course I am waiting out here. To do otherwise would be highly inappropriate."
Mikaela gave him a skeptical look as she turned to push the restroom door open. "Like that's ever stopped you from doing things," she mumbled.
"What was that?" Ratchet asked tightly.
"Nothing!" Mikaela said quickly, stepping in and shutting the door behind her, effectively putting a stop to the banter.
When she reemerged Ratchet was leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed across his chest, and she flashed him a cheesy grin and gave him a sarcastic thumbs up. He rolled his eyes rudely at her and jerked his head in the direction of the door, indicating that they should leave.
"Hold your horses," Mikaela said stubbornly. "I need to pick up a few things."
Ratchet followed her out to the rows of chips and cookies and soda with a very put-upon sigh and proceeded to sulk in the main aisle at the front of the little store where he paced with crossed arms, occasionally deeming it necessary to throw a nasty look or two in the direction of the clerk at the front.
In the meantime, Mikaela became distracted by all of the selections of water, finally settling on one by reaching into the cooler blindly and grabbing the first one to meet her hand. She tucked the bottle under her arm and proceeded to seek out the aisle that held all the packets of individual doses of every over-the-counter medication known to mankind. After spending a good five minutes rooting around through every possible form of antihistamine and cough suppressant in existence, she finally found what she was looking for: a small foil packet with a double dose of non-drowsy Dramamine. She had just about put everything back in preparation to head up to the register and pay when a hand on her shoulder nearly sent her jumping out of her skin.
Ratchet had reappeared beside her quietly and she turned to smack him in the arm for sneaking up on her, but the serious look on his face stopped her where she was. "Ratchet?" she asked curiously as he threw a cautious look toward the front of the store, out the large windows.
"We need to move," he said quietly, wrapping his fingers around Mikaela's wrist and pulling her in the direction of the door. "Two state patrol cars just pulled into the parking lot."
"Oh, okay," Mikaela said, grinning at the store clerks as they went by the desk and showing them the bottle of water and the small packet of medication and slapping down a ten dollar bill on the counter as she was firmly dragged away. "I got these. Keep the change!"
Ratchet grumbled as he pushed her out the front doors and into the parking lot, making a point to put himself between her and the line of sight from the officers who still sat in their cruisers. Mikaela, for her part, pretended to be occupied by the bottle of water she had in her hands in order to avoid looking in the direction of the patrol cars. They had made it halfway across the parking lot, and the mechanic was just starting to relax when two car doors swung open and the officers got out of their cruisers in tandem, immediately making their way toward where she and Ratchet were headed.
The CMO cursed under his breath.
"What do we do?" Mikaela whispered, all of her muscles tensing automatically in preparation for a confrontation.
"Hard to say what they are here for, best not to chance it. Go to Sideswipe," Ratchet mumbled, giving her a small nudge in the direction of the Porsche. "Wait there. Do not get out unless I tell you to."
Mikaela hesitated. "But what about you?"
"They won't recognize me," Ratchet growled and gave her a discreet but firm push toward where Sideswipe was 'parked'. "But they will likely recognize you. Now go on."
Mikaela took a deep breath and walked as quickly as she could without running or appearing suspicious the rest of the way across the parking lot, refusing to look behind her until she had quietly slipped inside of Sideswipe's waiting alt. mode.
She watched as Ratchet met the approaching officers halfway and sunk low in her seat as Sideswipe's door snapped shut of its own accord. "I saw them coming," the frontliner said. "But I couldn't get a holo in to you two without them seeing it."
"It's okay," Mikaela said, craning her neck as she attempted to watch what was transpiring outside. "Ratchet saw them as soon as they pulled in."
Mikaela tensed as Ratchet glanced back toward her and Sideswipe, indicating them with a sweeping gesture of his arm and a shake of his head.
"Ratchet thinks they'd recognize me," Mikaela breathed. "Why?"
"Because Cemetery Wind is a branch of your government," Sideswipe said quietly. "They burned your house down- they obviously know of your involvement somehow. Your face is probably being circulated amongst all branches of the government, if not country-wide, as wanted."
"Oh," Mikaela said, her stomach flopping dully at that little revelation. "Yeah."
"I wouldn't worry about it, femme," Sideswipe said. "You got a whole bunch of giant alien robots on your side."
Mikaela smiled halfheartedly.
"Can you pick up what they're saying?" she mumbled to the frontliner.
"Ratchet is telling the officers that you are his daughter and you are both in the middle of a planned road trip across the country to check out colleges for you," Sideswipe said and Mikaela could tell he was just as tense as she was.
One of the officers pointed in their direction, at Mikaela, and tilted his head slightly as he spoke to Ratchet, a puzzled look plastered across his face. Mikaela took several deep breaths to calm her nerves.
"I hope they don't notice that I'm a bit old to be checking out freshman colleges with my dad," she mumbled.
Sideswipe responded with a light laugh. "They are skeptical of his age – they don't think he looks old enough to be your father. If they only knew."
"No kidding," Mikaela snickered. She sobered up quickly, however, when Ratchet parted from the officers with a nod and rapidly made his way back to where they were parked, deep scowl decorating his features.
"They recognize her," the medic said somewhat urgently as he slid into the seat and Sideswipe's engine roared to life. "They don't know where they've seen her face before, but they know that they have… I do not wish to be present when they remember that they have seen it on the government's WANTED propaganda. Get us out of here."
Sideswipe revved his engine and left the parking lot at the fastest acceptable speed and only once they were nearly five miles away and realized they were not being followed did they finally relax.
"Let's try to keep an even lower profile, shall we?" Ratchet sighed, tilting his head back against his headrest tiredly.
"We're keeping a pretty low one as it is," Mikaela sighed, looking over at him. "What the hell were they even doing there anyway?"
"They were searching," Ratchet said simply.
"Searching?" Sideswipe asked. "For what?"
"You."
"Oh," Sideswipe responded, an air of surprise in his tone. "All the way out here?"
"Presumably everywhere. And not just you, in all actuality – All Autobots, as well as Decepticons. There is quite a heavy bounty on us all, from what those officers divulged to me. And I believe they are aware of our rallying point, even if it is unconfirmed."
"Not surprising, I guess," Mikaela said. "Did we really expect anything different?"
"No," Ratchet supplied. "But I did not expect to run into this kind of trouble so quickly and so far away from California and Texas, the last confirmed locations of Autobot sightings."
"Will that throw us off?"
"Not particularly, although I think it may be best if you keep hidden. Out of the three of us they are more likely to recognize you."
"Well that's great," Mikaela huffed. "Got almost another whole day on the road and I am not even allowed to leave the car?"
"I did not say that," Ratchet said gently. "But we need to be very careful about it."
Mikaela sighed, resisting the urge to cross her arms and pout. Suddenly remembering half the reason that she had asked to stop in the first place, she dug the little foil packet of pills out of her pocket and tossed them, along with the water bottle, over to Ratchet. The CMO caught them deftly, but threw her a puzzled look upon seeing the pills.
"Dramamine," Mikaela told him. "It'll really help with your motion sickness."
"My…" Ratchet frowned, looking down at the little packet in the palm of his hand. "How did you know?"
"You looked ready to puke," Mikaela shrugged. "I used to get carsick when I was a kid. It's kinda hard to miss, you know. Those are non-drowsy so hopefully they won't knock you out."
"Thank you," Ratchet said honestly, and Mikaela threw him a small smile as he quickly swallowed one of the doses with a mouthful of water and settled back into the seat.
The trio fell once again into silence, speaking very little as they made their way up the mountains and down the other side onto the Western Slope, hitting the small town of Pueblo before turning north to follow the I-25 corridor.
Nearly three hours came and went before red pillars of earth and rock rose sharply on the horizon, like sentinels standing at rapt attention against an indigo sky and Mikaela's chest tightened as she registered that they were approaching the Garden of the Gods. She shared a glance with Ratchet, smiling wordlessly at him as they passed silently through the rock formations, and put her head against the window.
The mechanic dozed, zoning in and out as they hit Denver and made their way further westward. Eventually the mountains drifted out of sight and they found themselves surrounded by nothing but vast seas of grass and farmland topped by wide open sky.
"What the heck is this, Wisconsin?" the mechanic asked drowsily, rubbing her eyes and straightening in her seat.
"No," Ratchet huffed. "This is Nebraska."
"Boring," she had groaned, letting her head fall forward to the steering wheel. "Corn everywhere. Euuugh, smells like cow."
"Do you even know what a bovine smells like?" the CMO asked, a note of honest curiosity to his tone.
"… No," Mikaela pouted. "But I can guess. Probably smells like the urrghhh we are smelling right now."
"Not much we can do about that, I am afraid," Ratchet said, although Mikaela caught him wrinkling his nose in shared disgust as he finished the sentence. "Unfortunately, the next state will likely prove to be similar, and just as monotonous from the highway."
"Wisconsin?" Mikaela asked, blinking.
"No," the medic responded, tilting an eyebrow in her direction. "Iowa."
"Sounds boring," Mikaela sighed, slumping back down into her seat. "Are we stopping at all, or do you two plan on just hauling ass all the way to Illinois?"
"I suppose we will have to stop somewhere along the way. Sideswipe has not recharged in two days," the CMO said, a hint of reproach in his voice. "And we cannot continue to sleep in here."
Mikaela grinned. She could feel Sideswipe shrug around her.
"Wake me when something interesting happens," she said, shaking her head to keep the encroaching sleep at bay for a moment longer.
"Fat chance, femme," Sideswipe's voice floated out of the speakers. "Not been anything interesting for miles. Not likely to be anything worthwhile for many miles more."
"Whatever," the mechanic mumbled, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand. "All the more reason for me to go back to sleep."
Ratchet 'hmm'-ed in agreement and Mikaela let her head fall back to the window and her bored brain carry her back into a light doze.
The mechanic groaned in frustration as the feeling of hands on her arm and shoulder coaxed her from sleep after an unsatisfactory amount of time had passed, in her opinion. It took her a moment to orient herself enough to realize that the hands belonged to Ratchet, and he was trying to coax her out of the tight little ball she had bunched herself into.
"Mikaela," Ratchet said softly. "Wake up – That cannot be comfortable."
"It is," Mikaela mumbled, curling in on herself and drawing her legs even further onto the seat.
Ratchet scoffed, but when he made a move to shift her into a different position, Mikaela whined petulantly.
"Mikaela, your spinal column is not meant to stay in that position for very long," Ratchet snipped impatiently, firmly attempting to roll her over.
"Lemme alone," Mikaela growled. She swatted at him clumsily, groaning and turning over as much as she could in the seat so that her back was to him.
Ratchet sighed heavily behind her and an amused chuckle poured from Sideswipe's speakers as Mikaela rapidly and gladly went back into her dreams.
She was woken again what had to have been a few hours later, in the dark, by a hushed query from Sideswipe.
"Ratchet," Sideswipe whispered.
"What is it, Sideswipe?" Ratchet mumbled, clearly half asleep.
"I…" the frontliner hesitated uncharacteristically. "Well, I… I'm glad you're back."
There was a faint rustle of fabric as Ratchet sat up straight in his seat, and then silence for a moment before he responded, "I am, too."
"Do you ever think about… y'know," Sideswipe whispered tentatively. "Changing back?"
"Clarify what you mean, please."
"I mean, if you had the chance to go back to a Cybertronian body – your real one, would you do it?"
Even in her sleepy state of haziness, Mikaela could practically feel Ratchet's frown.
"I have not given it much thought," he said, and the mechanic could tell that was a lie. "It is unlikely that I will ever be afforded the opportunity."
"What if we could build one?" Sideswipe whispered hopefully.
"With what materials, youngling?" Ratchet laughed quietly, though it was bitter. "Since we arrived on this slagging planet – actually, since long before that, even – we have not even had access to enough materials for me to do appropriate repairs when one of us is injured. I have had to make due with scrap and even that is simply in interest of not cannibalizing our dead comrades."
Mikaela winced. She remembered with vivid clarity the day that Director Mearing had suggested, without thinking it through, that Ratchet start taking what he needed of the parts of the recently deceased Autobots and Decepticons that were grouped in an adjacent warehouse, waiting for transport to the Laurentian Abyss.
Ironhide's remains had been among that group.
The hangar had fallen into complete, tense silence and the air had become charged as Ratchet slowly turned to regard her with icy optics. The furious, explosive argument that had ensued had been enough to give even Mikaela a headache that had lasted for days afterward.
"Yeah, I know but… if we could," Sideswipe continued, seemingly unfazed. "If you had another frame. What then?"
Ratchet sighed, and Mikaela could hear the soft sound of skin dragging on skin and she assumed that the CMO was dragging a hand tiredly over his face as he reined in what was likely a biting retort to the frontliner.
"Even if such a thing were possible, spark transfer is dangerous under the best of circumstances," the medic said tiredly. "I do not think you understand, Sideswipe. My attempt was borne of desperation, and I was successful only through sheer luck. To attempt it again would be tantamount to suicide."
The mechanic flinched subconsciously at the brutal honesty in Ratchet's voice as he hissed his argument to Sideswipe.
"Yeah, but… If anyone could do it, Ratch, it would be you."
"As much as I appreciate the sentiment," Ratchet said softly. "It is not a risk I am willing to take."
"Yeah, but what happens if… What happens if Optimus decides we have to leave the planet?" Sideswipe asked, a note of pleading to his voice. "What would you do? We can't just leave you behind."
"You can," Ratchet said calmly. "And if Optimus decides to leave Earth, you will."
"No. I won't do it," Sideswipe said defiantly. "After everything you've done for us? For me? I wouldn't leave you here. I couldn't."
"Sideswipe," Ratchet sighed, but it was with an affectionate patience. "I have accepted the possible ramifications of the path I have chosen, including being left behind if our Prime decides it is time to move on. If the time comes, you must…"
The voices faded out and Mikaela frowned, brow furrowing with the effort to stay awake, but sleep won over against her will and once more carried her back into her dreams. She was roused what must have been just a few hours later to the world tilting slowly around her as gentle arms lifted her from Sideswipe's alt. mode.
"Mmmgh? Are we there?" Mikaela asked blearily, tilting her head back to look at the blurry outline of Ratchet's face.
"Not yet, little one," Ratchet said quietly. "A bit of distance still. We have nearly six hours to go until we reach Chicago."
"Oh…where are we?"
"We are currently crossing the parking lot to the Holiday Inn," he said cheekily. "We are in Iowa – Chariton, Iowa to be specific."
"Why've we stopped?"
"Because Sideswipe needs to rest and so do you."
"I am resting," the mechanic retorted groggily, burying her face back in the front of Ratchet's jacket.
"Real rest, girl," Ratchet said, rolling his eyes. "Good sleep in a bed and not the front seat of a car."
"I like cars," Mikaela murmured, her tongue feeling just as heavy as her eyelids, Ratchet's soft laughter the last thing she heard as she drifted quickly back to sleep in the security of the CMO's arms.
The next time she woke it was in a comfortable, fluffy hotel bed, her body sank gratefully into the mattress as she buried her face in the clean sheets. She drew her legs up, noting dully that her shoes and jacket had been removed, and rolled over. There was another bed situated across from hers, the state of disarray that the sheets and blankets indicating that this was likely where Ratchet had passed the night.
The mechanic stretched languidly with a small groan before sitting up just as aforementioned CMO emerged from the bathroom, clean shaven and hair dripping onto his clean shirt. He tilted an eyebrow at Mikaela's slightly dazed look.
"Good morning," he said.
"Mornin'," Mikaela yawned. "Did you say we were in Iowa?"
"Yes, we are. We are roughly six hours away from Chicago."
"Thank god," Mikaela mumbled, sliding off the bed and weaving slightly on her way to the bathroom. "I'm gonna have a shower."
"Smells like a good idea," Ratchet mumbled, feigning innocence when Mikaela wheeled about to throw him a nasty look and shrugging his shoulders. She stuck her tongue out at him and slammed the door testily behind her.
When she emerged nearly forty minutes later, Ratchet was sitting cross-legged in the center of his bed, upon carefully made sheets. Mikaela shook her head, deciding not to divulge to him the fact that the hotel staff were just going to rip them off and throw them in the laundry after they left, anyway.
"Well at least now I feel more human," Mikaela said, appraising her reflection in the dresser top mirror with satisfaction. "Where's Sideswipe?"
"Parking lot," Ratchet said, standing up and walking toward the window to glance down at the stretch of asphalt below. "Probably still in recharge."
"He needed it," Mikaela said, and Ratchet nodded.
"We cannot linger. We should be moving again within the hour if we want to reach Chicago before the afternoon," the CMO mumbled, moving to the big table in the corner of their hotel room, where he had stacked their bags.
Mikaela nodded, wincing as the motion stretched the taut muscles in her neck and sent an ache down her spine. "Ouch," she mumbled, rolling her neck and shoulders in a feeble attempt to work out the kinks.
"Hm?" Ratchet said distractedly from across the room, where he was shifting through the contents of his bag.
"Nothing. Just sore."
Ratchet turned and regarded her over his glasses, an eyebrow tilted in such a way that clearly said 'I told you so.'
Mikaela rolled her eyes, eyeing the CMO warily as he stepped away from his bag and came over to stand in front of her.
"Sit still," Ratchet said firmly, sliding onto the bed behind her. Mikaela tilted her head in puzzlement but obeyed anyway, nearly jumping out of her skin as she felt the CMO's long fingers press rather suddenly into her shoulders.
"Relax, girl," Ratchet admonished lightly.
Mikaela complied trustingly, nearly purring in satisfaction as Ratchet's nimble fingers massaged their way over her sore shoulders and down her spine.
"You should stretch more," he told her as he pressed yet another knot out of her shoulder. "It will keep your muscles from tensing so much."
"Not exactly a lot of room in Sideswipe's alt. mode," she said, shrugging.
"I know," Ratchet sighed, drawing his hands away from her and ignoring her disappointed groan. "But we are almost there, not much longer now."
They had gathered their bags and headed back down to the parking lot after returning the room keys to the front desk, where Ratchet had rudely brought Sideswipe out of recharge with a well-aimed kick to his front right tire.
They were back on the road by the time the sun had climbed fully above the horizon and Mikaela had firmly shoved her headphones into her ears and blasted music to herself in hopes that the remaining six hours of driving would go faster.
The time came and went quickly, small moments of conversation and, irritation (on Ratchet's part) which culminated in Sideswipe trying to coax the CMO into playing the very human game of 'I Spy,' and Ratchet snarling at him in very colorful language in return for his trouble.
Finally, toward the early afternoon, Ratchet had tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention and she had removed her headphones to tilt her head at him questioningly.
"Look," the CMO said, sitting up straight in his chair and indicating the scenery ahead of them through the windshield.
The Chicago skyline loomed in the distance.