Blood and Energon 14
Family
A Transformers Prime FanFiction
Zechariah Franklin paused in ministering to the one he called brother to stare expressionlessly out the garage windows. A red and blue semi rolled out of the lot pulling a silver trailer. The tall young man let the smallest of wistful sighs escape him before turning back to his task. Bright lights shone down from a high ceiling on three different big rigs. Two were fairly new Kenworths in for basic maintenance. Before the human was a torn and twisted Peterbilt 281 "Needlenose" semi. It had been light blue once but was smeared with dirt and grime. Gaping holes had been punched through the engine hood and cab. Aluminum 'skin was peeled back and curled in a dozen places.
The repair bay buzzed with quiet life. Three or four men in stained coveralls hustled around bringing tools and welding odd bits of metal. The young man was slowly and carefully pulling metal splinters out of a mass of leathery black flesh that seemed to encase the entire engine. The mass shone dully in the bright bay lights. Tendrils of varying length and thickness reached out of the main body to coil around levers and fuse with cables. Every time the pliers gently tugged out a splinter the tendrils would twitch slightly in pain. The work went on silently for several hours, the young man stopping occasionally to examine the patient from another angle or shine a light.
"What's this?" he asked reaching back into a dark recess of the engine compartment. He pulled out a large, wedge shaped piece of metal. In the light of the repair bay it was dull gunmetal grey, about the length of his arm, and articulated at two points. Scratches and acid burs marred the surface. It looked almost like a…
"Sal?" there was no response. "Salcha Franklin , is this a finger?"
"Maybe," a deep voice muttered from the engine. The tendrils coiled in tightly as if the creature was trying to make itself smaller.
Zech let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead.
"Sal, what are the rules about eating people bits?" he asked heavily.
"Hey! The seeker drones aren't seni…sent…setni… they don't have minds like real people! I don't think. And besides it was already dead when I picked them up."
"Them?" Zech arched his eyebrows at the truck.
With a wet smacking sound four more of the appendages were reluctantly pushed out of the recesses of the engine. The human gathered them up and dumped the grisly things into a plastic bin.
"We'll give 'em to Johnson when he gets back. Sal," Zech looked at him seriously, "Don't do this again."
The creature let out an exasperated sigh.
"Sal I'm serious!" his brother insisted. "We have no idea how you'll react to these elements. For all we know it could be a poison for you."
"It's not," Sal said flatly.
"And how do you know that?" Zech demanded.
"Because unlike some species I could mention I can read my own body's reactions well enough to know when I'm ingesting something bad for me," he snapped back. "These alien types are a very good source of nutrients for a growing blood monster."
"Sal," Zech said as he slid the bin under a battered workbench. "Don't say that. You are not a monster."
"Oh?" there was bitterness in the deep voice, "by who's definition exactly?"
Before the human could answer the man door to the bay flew open and admitted a swirling mass of chaos. Three little girls in bright pink fleeces and worn blue jeans charged in, arms full of cardboard boxes. Curly, jet black hair was cropped short or pulled back into thick pony tails. Smooth caramel colored skin surrounded eye's such a deep purple they were nearly black. Six little eyes widened in horror when they fell on the twisted machine carrying the tentacles. The tallest of the little girls carefully set her boxes down on a convenient bucket and dramatically flung her hands into the air with a scream. Or perhaps scream isn't the right word. Every living creature in the bay flinched away from the high pitched sonic assult which seemed to drag on far longer than could be accounted for by the girl's small lung capacity.
"Oh! My precious big brother has been terribly wounded. Whatever shall we do?" she finally called out dramatically pulling on her close cropped hair.
"Why dear sister. We must nurse him back to health!" the second little girl said firmly, dropping her boxes roughly on the ground and producing a large glass thermometer out of thin air.
"Yes let's!" squealed the smallest.
"Ah, sissies. Wait just a minute, he still has a lot of sharp bits," Zech called helplessly as they swarmed the semi clucking and chirping worriedly.
"Oh, lookit at all the lil bits of ouchie stuck in you Sally," the oldest one called.
"Oooo, those could be infected. He'll need a lot of shots" the middle girl said gleefully pulling out a foam syrenge.
"Let's check da temperature!" piped in the smallest grabbing the two foot long glass instrument out of her sister's hand and began eyeballing the leathery mass for a suitable target.
Sal coiled his tentacles as close into his body as he could and called out.
"And just where are you planning to stick that Dee?"
"Where did you even get that thing," Zech demanded snatching it up. "I didn't even know they made mercury thermometers this big anymore. And I said get off Sal, he's hurt and you could get hurt on the torn metal."
"Wow this must have been some wreck? Were you speeding? It smells like you were speeding," declared the oldest one, examining the twisted engine compartment from her perch on top of the cab.
"Get down from there now," Sal called frantically, "I'm all sharp and pionty right now." His tentacles reached up to grab the girl but she easily dodged them. Zech had the smallest one and was trying to coax her sisters down when a powerful voice boomed out,
"Ya'll chillens get down off'a your big brother right now!"
Like lightening the three little terrors were lined up in front the injured big rig with identical angelic expressions on their faces. A tall broad woman strode into the bay. The lights gleamed off ebony skin. She wore faded blue jeans and a well filled brown leather flight jacket. Her long black hair was twisted into a bun at the base of her neck. Her eyes showed the lines of much laughter, and tears.
"Now, as you can all see Sal and Zech are alive and are doing fine. I know you want to help them right?"
"Right!" three little voices chorused.
"You; go tell Uncle Jimmy we're here. You; get the food out of the boxes. You; go help Aunt Jenna get dinner on."
"Yes Mama!" the three girls leapt to their appointed tasks.
Jasmine "Ma" Franklin strode over to the damaged truck and leapt up to where Zech had retreated from the feminine onslaught. She immediately wrapped one arm around the young man and reached down with the other to gently stroke the leathery mass of Sal's exposed skin.
"Oh my poor lil boys. I heard from the troopers that ya'll was hurt bad and rushed right down," she murmured. Zech leaned into the hug and Sal reached up to wrap as many tendrils around her powerful forearm as he could. They intertwined with her gold bracelets making a striking contrast up her arm.
"How'd you get here so fast Ma?" Zech asked curiously.
"Oh. I jus hopped in Romeo Alpha and landed her out back," she shrugged. "Sometimes I think you forget your momma has a pilot's license and a plane," she scolded him gently.
"Now," she stepped back and glared at her oldest son. Once she divined that neither of 'her boys' was fatally injured her sympathy-o-meter dropped dangerously. "You tell me right now Zechariah Franklin. Were you speeding when this happened?"
"No, no way Ma. We were totally still," Zech protested, but hesitated.
Sal rumbled in hurried assent.
"Boys," Ma drawled out, "There's sumpin you ain't tellin me."
"Yes Ma there is," Zech said quickly. "Agent Johnson forbade us to."
The woman eyed the two of them suspiciously but nodded slowly.
"The troopers were sayin sumptin bout the Mounties tellin the border guards about some big cover-up on the highway," she mused.
"Yeah, that was us," Sal said.
She glanced down at the twisted metal and a look of pain crossed her face.
"Oh baby, this had ta hurt you so bad," she whispered as she stroked the aluminum. The injuries were serious but hardly life threatening. The initial stress of the incident was passing and she was calming down. Her thick Georgian accent began to fade a bit.
"Ah, not too bad," the tendrils somehow gave the impression of shrugging. "I was so hyped up on endorphins from the fight, ow!"
Zech had slammed a handy wrench into the side of the cab with a clang.
"Hey! Federal gag order, remember?" he demanded.
"Oh, yeah," Sal muttered.
Jasmine looked searchingly at the two of them. Zech appeared to be fine. No physical injuries and only intensely concentrated on helping his brother recover. Sal however, she could feel the tightness in his flesh; hear the discomfort in his voice. This went beyond mere physical pain, which the young one was very skilled at controlling. Something was bothering him, something he needed to talk about. Mother senses tingling Ma Franklin pulled on a set of leather gloves and picked up a set of pliers.
"Well, seeing how you boys seem ta have a good excuse for all this, and believe me I will be checking in with Johnson, I'll jus skip the usual interrogation and get down ta helpin you get fixed up. Cadence!"
The middle sister, sporting a back length pony tail, popped up from the boxes where she'd been sorting quart jars, and tilted her head to one side.
"You make a plate up for Zech and start bringing the raw food to Sal."
"Yes, Mama. Plate for Zechy, raw food for Sally," Cadence repeated.
"Sal-CHA," the big rig growled at her, "It's Sal-CHA! Get it right Candy"
The little girl grinned impishly as she loaded a paper plate with food.
"Sally is cuter!"
"I'm not cute!"
"Yes you is!"
"Are," Zech corrected with a smile as he accepted the plate.
"Are," she repeated dutifully. "You want strawberries Sally?"
He sighed in surrender and assented. The girl picked up a bag of berries and began tossing them into the engine compartment. The leathery flesh guided the little wild berries down into several round mouths that opened just long enough to snap the fruit down with a ring of sharp pointy structures that a scientist had once spent several hours explaining to Sal weren't really teeth. The berries that flew wide of their mark Sal snatched up with his tentacles. When the berries were gone Candy started feeding him the garden carrots.
A snort of derision sounded from the far corner of the bay.
"What are you feeding that poor cub? A warrior needs flesh!"
A happy squeal erupted from Candy when she saw the furry figure reclining against one of the Kenworths and she flung the entire bundle of carrots at Sal before rushing over to fling her arms around his neck. A massive white wolf bent his head down to lick the little girl fondly.
"Amarok!" Zech called out happily, "I never got a chance to thank you for shielding us when," the young man stopped and glanced nervously at his mother who only arched an eyebrow and kept pulling out splinters.
"Well when you shielded us," Zech finished grinning.
"Yes, thanks for protecting them," Salcha seconded.
"It was nothing," the wolf said easily, his main attention clearly on the little girl who had climbed up on his back and was busy pulling his ears.
"I searched you out when the Caretaker warned me someone was stalking you, and found you and your friend crouched behind the earthbone. It seemed wise to get you out of the way for a bit. Once the fight was over I thought Sal might need something a littel more substantial than grazer food to heal." The wolf reached a paw under the Kenwoth and pulled out the still warm carcass of a young moose.
Sal started drooling as the wolf stood to carry it over to him.
"Oh no you don't," Ma Franklin said firmly, placing herself between the wolf and her boy. "Sal's in no shape to digest a moose right now, not with that gash in his side." She pointed to where Breakdown had ripped out one of Sal's steel ribs, leaving a long deep wound.
"But Ma," Sal pleaded. "Fresh, raw wild game, and I do need the protein." He tried to sound as hungry a possible.
"Well, if someone will cut out the soft bits for you so you don't have to deal with the bones and tendons just yet," she relented.
Amarok dropped the carcass in front of Sal and indicated the main house with his nose.
"Enjoy, as long as you're down here I'm going to be playing with my bond cub and her sisters."
"Of course, don't let the girls get away with anything," Jasmine said, relieved to have him there to watch out for the children.
Zech had already hung the moose up and begun to field dress it. He handed the softer inner organs to Sal while Ma continued pulling out fragments. Finally she leaned back and stretched.
"All right boys, we need ta talk."
Zech stood up from the nearly gone moose carcass and started to speak. Ma guessed what he was thinking and shook her head.
"Not about whatever fight ya'll got in. You just better have won that. We need ta discuss the future, not the past," she looked down at Sal with a serious expression on her face. "Whoever gave you this beatdown only hurried things up a bit. That ol' Petercar body wasn't long for this world anyway. But now the engine's dead, the frame's warped, and the skin's beyond repair. So we need to decide what you're going to do."
They were silent for awhile. Finally Sal spoke up.
"I want to stay a truck."
"You sure?" Ma asked. "You're big enough now, got enough mass, we could grow you into a human shape pretty easy with a little help from Cy tribe."
"I'm sure," Sal said. "I like being useful, like the open road. I like the power. I want to stay a truck."
"You know either way we're gonna have to get the old engine out of you," Zech pointed out, "and you've been growing around that for nearly forty years now. That's gonna hurt."
"Yep," Sal said grimly. He was not looking forward to that, or the forcible extraction from his frame the switch would require.
"I want to stay a Peterbilt too. I think that will make the new assimilation easier," he continued. "But I want to upgrade. A 381 at least, unless they have something newer. Uh, guys?"
Zech was looking at his mother curiously, and she was examining her nails smugly.
"Ma, what gives," Sal asked a little nervously.
"Well son'o'mine," she drawled, "you know I been planning for this day since Pa Franklin introduced me ta the two precious kiddos that came along with him?"
"Really?" he asked in surprise.
"Yep," she nodded eagerly. "Ya'll know I come from an old truckin family. Well I always wanted to design my own rig. So I started asking around when it became clear you'd eventually eat yourself out of cab and frame. I made friends with this nice old gal in the Petercar company and she's had a new frame in the works for the past few years; stronger, lighter, and just all around a better fit for you."
"Thanks Ma, that's great," Sal said softly. There was something in his tone suddenly, something hesitant. Zech glanced at his mom and read the look she gave him.
"Well if that's settled, I think I'll go get a shower now," he said cheerfully.
Another of Sal's sudden mood swings was on him. He needed his Ma. The young man kissed his mother on the cheek and threw his brother an affectionate punch. Once he was out the door Jasmine Franklin stretched and leaned back against the battered remains of Sal's cab. The pale northern afternoon faded slowly as she waited for him to speak.
"Ma?" he asked finally.
"Yes dearest," she answered gently.
"I, do you think, I mean," he stumbled to a halt with a frustrated growl. Ma felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up at the subsonics but only snuggled closer to the being she called son. Finally Sal gave up on the question and simply said,
"I messed up big time," his voice small with shame.
Ma reached in and gently stroked him as he went on.
"There's no point in hiding it from you I guess. The rumors are bound to reach you sooner or later. Zech and I were involved in a big fight last night. Aankaawu Yeil had tried something funny in White Horse but he didn't get me he got the rig we were buddying with."
"Ravens!" Ma snorted, "trash eaters trash spitters."
"Yeah, but his plan? It kinda worked, it just missed. Our buddy got all weak and his enemies were able to find him. Any way we fought them off but Red Warrior, that's the one we were buddying with got hurt. He was bleeding and, well he willingly shared his life's blood with me."
Ma blinked in surprise. She still wasn't entirely following the story but that was nothing to sniff at no matter how you cut it.
"He was amazing Ma. He can fight like Kagsakgsuk when he was strong, he's kind as a mother wolf, and he is as willing to teach as Amarok. To top it all off he can shift to stand like a man."
Jasmine had seen a host of strange things since she'd come north seeking adventure after high school. So it wasn't the unbelievable truck man he described that caused the frown to cross her face. It was the misery that permeated Sal's voice.
"So ya'll made a good buddy and won a good fight. I really don't see how that means you messed up."
"I behaved badly afterwards. I tried to take his charge, a boy, deny his mentorship," Sal said, shame in every word. "I was unforgivably rude to him. He had willingly shared his life's blood with me and I all but threw a shoe at him."
"Why sweetheart? Ma asked, "You was never jealous when you brothers and sisters got their bond uncles. And you and Amarok get along like a barn afire."
"He is a void walker," Sal whispered shaking.
The part of her brain that was Jasmine the young adventurer stood up and screamed. Her son had had a close encounter of the third kind. This was the fulfillment of a hundred childhood dreams. But the part of her that was a mother rose up and banished the screaming child. She reached out with both hands and held the trembling being.
"Oh baby," she crooned, "you musta been so scared."
Sal wrapped his tendrils tightly around her forearms. Ma always understood.
"I shouldn't hate him like this I know. He looked at me Ma, saw me for what I was, and he was still so kind and forgiving. He doesn't have to have a steady supply of human blood to live. He doesn't start fights with other tribes over stupid territorial instincts. He doesn't chew on the bones of his fallen enemies. He's the perfect ally for humanity. How can we compete with that?"
"Oh sweetheart. You never have to compete for our love, you know that. There was a Franklin there for you when you first opened your heart to this world. I know cuz I was there! And no matter how many generations you out live lil 'ol me the Clan will be there for you. We're not jus gonna dump you, any of ya'll, for some smooth void walker."
Sal let out a sigh and let her arms loose; coiling his tendrils down in shame.
"I know that, in my mind I know that. But I still get jealous just thinking that somewhere in the lower forty-eight some void-walker is right now taking responsibility for some child's life." Sal stopped speaking with a fresh surge of shame as he saw Ma flinch involuntarily at his subsonic growl.
"Do you think, Ma, do you think I can ever learn to get over this stupid jealously to like him? Respect him?"
"Why is that so important to you? Sounds to me like you'll never see him again."
"I know Zech likes science, space, that kind of stuff. If the void walkers ever become common I don't want to hold him back. I want him to be able to meet them, talk to them, but I know he'll never leave me behind, so I'll have to go with him."
"Salcha, do you remember the first time you spoke?" she asked.
"Of course I do," Sal said in confusion.
"Tell me the story again," she said gently.
"You and Pa were just courting. You were driving on a short haul with Zech in the were discussing what you wanted to name any children you might have. I realized I didn't know my name and so I asked you."
"And I was so shocked, I had kinda half believed what Kip had told me about you up till then, but not really. But I was so shocked that I just said the first name I saw," she continued with a smile.
"So that's how I was named after a little town in Alaska," Sal finished happily reminiscing.
"Yes and do you remember the second question you asked me?"
"Will I ever be able to love Zech? Because I want to be his brother so bad, and I know that brothers need to love each other and I didn't know if a blood monster like me could love," Sal said happily at the memory.
"And what did I say?"
Sal fell silent when he saw where she was going with this.
"That who I was, was a lot more important than what I was, and if I was capable of asking the question, then I already knew the answer," he finally said.