Chapter XIV: When all is said and done

(May 2010):

Owen sat quietly among the soldiers on the V-22 Osprey, eyeing their stoic expressions as the aircraft was rocked by the turbulent winds outside. His stomached rolled a few times; he swallowed against his gag reflex and cast a wary glance toward Master Sergeant Robert Epps. There wasn't a hint of discomfort on the man's face; the same could be said of Major Lennox and Captain Graham McTavish.

There were a couple of soldiers who were too preoccupied to in their conversations to maintain the "army strong" façade; others seemed content with eying the sleek vehicle parked in the middle of the aircraft. Hot Rod, bless him, didn't mind the preying eyes or the occasional kicks to the tires as some of the soldiers asked him questions about his origins or model.

Much to Owen's chagrin he shed the original frame design of the 1967 GT500 for its latest model (the 2009 GT500), a consequence which resulted in a prolonged silent treatment and longwinded explanation to his mother about how he acquired an extremely expensive car with no paperwork to show for it. The last thing Hot Rod wanted to do was get Owen in trouble (let alone hurt his feelings), but he wasn't a car, he was a sentient being in disguise.

His form was his to dictate and by that point he was tired of catering to Owen's security blanket. "I'm sure you can buy another car," Hot Rod said in attempt to make amends. What he got was one angry, sidelong look. "Money doesn't grow on trees, Hot Rod, and that car is extremely rare," It was the only time Owen had broken his code silence to speak to him.

His reactions to transformers in general were troubling; on one level he accepted them -because, what else could he do? - on the other, he was still terrified of them. Hot Rod considered Bumblebee and the others lucky that Witwicky and Banes had been so accepting of them, he was having a hard cajoling Owen into relaxing around him. "It's a wonder that boy isn't on medication for bad nerves," Arcee mused. Still, he was patient and he would wait. He was not about to break a fragile trust with impatience, not this far in the game.

The Osprey landed at the airbase, Owen waited for the soldiers to depart from the plane, no desire to be trampled on by men twice his size and weight. When he and Hot Rod were the only ones on the plane, he rose from the bench and headed down the ramp of the cargo hold. The busy energy of the base was more than little overwhelming, he found himself more concerned with catching the wrong end of a bullet than a Deception attack (and he was aware of base regulation). Off in the distance he could see the slight figure of Mikaela Banes embracing the likes of Lennox and Epps, motor oil smeared on her right cheek, hair pulled up into a pony tail. His heart jumped a little in his chest; of all the people he expected to be here, it wasn't her.

"Finally, freedom!" Owen turned around in time to catch Hot Rod roll out of the Osprey at top speed and screech to halt; in quick succession he transformed and stretched his arms and legs. "I thought we'd never get here!" He did a little dance and turned to regard Owen. The boy wore an awestruck expression on his for a second before exhaling in exasperation. Hot Rod frowned, and walked toward him. "Hey, don't freak out, I was just having some fun," Hot Rod said. Owen nodded understandingly. "I know, I just haven't gotten used to the sound of your feet," Owen explained as he moved forward.

"Hey, what's wrong with my feet?" Hot Rod inquired, indignant. "They're nice feet." He flexed the claws he called toes to exemplify their niceness to his partner.

"If you haven't noticed, their kinda big and loud; no offense to you, but I feel the earth shaking under me and I think earthquake," Owen answered. Hot Rod rolled his eyes with a sigh; this boy was more high strung than Ultra Magnus was. The two crossed the distance of the airfield, observing the general interaction between soldier and transformer as they went about their daily routine; Hot Rod had been in recovery for the better part of 2007 after emerging from stasis lock.

Ratchet had done what he could for his arm, but the rest was up to him and a little tweaking of his own. Everyone had been alarmed when he woke and his optics were red; he didn't remember much of waking up, but in words of his superior officer, he tried to use his mangled arm to attack Ratchet and failed miserably in the endeavor. He couldn't move with his injuries and that was blessing in disguise, trust wise. Ironhide always made sure to remind him of his colorful "Die Autobot!" commentary before he was put back into stasis lock by their medic.

In a measly attempt to maintain his fractured pride, Rodimus revealed that the time on the Quintesson's planet was a spent in other ways besides general imprisonment. Fully aware of their planet and the factions within, they saw Rodimus has an opportunity to experiment with conditioning Autobots and Deceptions with radical behavioral patterns; "Basically, they scrambled my interface and tried to change my allegiance with a transmuter just to see if they could do it."

"And did it?" He remembered Optimus asking.

"Yeah, until I ran into one some electrified bars," He recounted. "Then I was all mixed up." The behavioral tampering was overridden, but it took a fair amount of time to get his programming back on track and his personality chip back online to its original default. By the time he did, he reunited with Arcee and escaped the planet. "Every now and again, their programming rears its head, mostly when I get angry or someone frags me like Dropkick did. I Never did take the time to sort out my server."

Fast as an Autobot healed, there were some things that couldn't be erased, and this was one of them, primarily because of his own apathy. He never wanted to tell Arcee what happened to him and he never saw it particularly prudent to mess with his interface. He trusted himself enough to keep his temper in check and his head cool; he just didn't count on getting shot in the back by Dropkick. "You know, I used to be about your size when I was a youngling," Hot Rod started conversationally.

"You mean, you weren't born that size?"

"Of course not! No one's born this big, except maybe the Big Bot, but I'm speculating here," Hot Rod rambled. "Yeah, we start off young and tiny like you and we grow up, provided we get plenty of Energon."

"Huh," Owen was genuinely surprised. "You learn something new every day."

"Hey, Kup told me something like that once," Hot Rod laughed.

"Who's Kup?"

"He was my mentor back on Cybertron," Hot Rod answered.

"He's… he's not dead is he?" Owen knew it was a stupid question to ask; the very somber expression on his friend's face spoke in volumes, yet he found the words coming out of his mouth anyway. Rodimus nodded slowly. "Yeah, he was killed by Devastator."

"That huge Constructicon the others fought last year?"

Rodimus nodded again. "Y-yeah; I'm glad the others killed it. It was a long time ago, but-"

"Hey, I get it, touchy subject, sorry I pried," Owen apologized.

"Don't be, I brought him up after all and you were only curious, it's natural," Rodimus argued. "He was a great bot and pretty spry for an old timer. Taught me everything I know about fighting. Everything reminded him of some old conflict he participated in; at the time it was exasperating, but I miss it now." His hand reached up and rubbed his eyes. "Maybe I'll tell you some more later."

"Alright, I'd like that," Owen smiled.

Mikaela was decidedly glad to see them when they finally reached the hangar, she closed the distance between them and embraced Owen in a hug. He returned the show of affection in kind, ignoring Rodimus' snickering in the background. Mikaela pulled away from Owen and punched Hot Rod's shin gently. "Don't tease," She said, "how've you two been? I haven't seen you awhile."

Owen shrugged; talking to Mikaela had become considerably easier the longer he remained in her company; during his recovery from the second Decepticon attack he experienced, she chatted with him over the video camera which made him feel considerably less lonely in his stuffy bedroom (Rodimus' looming presence aside).

"I'm alright, Hot Rod's been keeping on my feet and I've been taking care of myself," Owen paused. "More or less, anyways. What about you? I haven't from you in well over a year." The last they'd spoken she was praising the very likes God because Sam had confessed his loved for her. Almost six months later, she left him an e-mail that briefly explained something about "family problems" and disappeared from the face of the earth.

Now she was here, looking no worse for wear and sunny as usual. "I'm okay, Owen, just had to sort out some personal stuff at home," She answered, casting a look over her shoulder.

"How's Bones?" Owen asked as he and Hot Rod followed her line of sight, Bumblebee and Optimus were approaching. "Bones' is alright, he's chilling with dad back at the garage. Maybe, I'll tell you about it later," She finished. Owen grinned and nodded, trying his best not to shoot Hot Rod a look when he started chuckling. What did he think was so funny?

The second lieutenant saluted his commanding officers. "Commander Bumblebee, Big Bot," He grinned. "Good to see you again."

"Likewise, Rodimus," Bumblebee replied with a nod of his head. "How goes the recovery?"

"Done and processed! With the exception a little kinks here and here, this bot is as good as new," Rodimus replied. "Hey, I heard about what went down in Egypt; wish I coulda been there for you guys."

Optimus shook his head with a dismissive wave of his large hand. "You'd been no good to us injured, Hot Rod. I'm simply glad it's all over." At the young bot's shrug, Optimus could only wonder how much of the situation he knew about. Knowing that he blamed himself for Hardhead's death on Cybertron, Optimus could only fathom what his reaction would've been had he learned of his momentary death.

"How's Arcee? I haven't seen her in a megacycle," Hot Rod said.

"She's fine, the injuries sustained during the battle have healed, hers and Elita-1's," Optimus replied. "She and the others will be happy to see you."

"Oh, yeah, the Sideswipe and the others are here too!" Rodimus' eyes brightened at the very idea of reuniting with his comrades, the loneliness of his isolated recovery fading quickly into the background. Kneeling down, he nudged Owen with his finger and opened his other palm. "Hey, you wanna go meet 'em?"

"Y-yeah, but I'll walk," He answered. At Mikaela's laugh, Rodimus tried not to look too disappointed as he nodded. Rising from his crouched position he saluted to his commanding officers for a second time. "At ease, Hot Rod, we're not on duty," Optimus chuckled.

"I know, I just wanted show my respects, sir," Hot Rod answered. "If and when we are in battle, I won't let you down. I owe you that much, considering I've been off-duty for so long."

"We expect nothing less from you, Rodimus," Said Bumblebee. "No one blames you for getting injured. Now go on, we've other matters to attend to."

"Hey, I thought you guys said you weren't on duty?" Owen interjected.

"We're not, officially, but your government sees it fit check in on us daily because of the Fallen's uprising," Optimus explained. "They do not trust us."

"I hate it break it you, but, America doesn't trust anybody except Americans and even that definition is pretty loose," Owen deadpanned. "It's not in their nature to trust foreigners, especially one's they can't control."

"So I am beginning to realize," Prime breathed. Bumblebee and Optimus started off past Rodimus, nodding their farewells; Owen had no chance to watch them depart, Mikaela grabbed his hand and lead him into the hangar. There were Autobots everywhere; some were sleeping, some were talking to each other and others were polishing their weapons.

He became painfully self-aware of his own height, feeling like a stalk of grass amongst giants. Ahead of them Arcee stood at a console that appeared tailor made for the overly large hands of the machines; i.e., it was an oversized console with an even bigger screen that appeared to be monitoring Chicago. "Wait till you meet Arcee, you'll love her," Hot Rod enthused. "She's not as creepy as she would have you think."

"It's true," Mikaela supported. "She's a sweetheart." It was all Owen could do to nod in response to their excitement.

"Hey, where's that Willgiggy kid? He's usually hanging around, freaking about something," Owen gave his robot friend a pointed look. He knew Hot Rod did it on purpose, getting Sam's name wrong, but he was right; Sam usually was somewhere on the base, speaking at a mile a minute or woe-is-meing about his intrusive parents and lack of respect the government showed him for saving the world and "stuff". Not hearing his voice made the hangar feel strangely empty and pleasantly serene. There was an underline scoff from Mikaela who picked up her pace a little, "Last I heard he was job hunting in D.C.," She said.

"Eh? You mean the Pentagon didn't hire him? I mean, why wouldn't they hire him?"

"Beats me," Was Mikaela's response. "But Lennox got them to sign-off on me as a liaison between the Autobots and the Pentagon, so it's not all bad."

Owen had to laugh at that. "Your boyfriend's out of a job, but it's not all bad because you got a sweet deal?" He started to grin when he saw Mikaela's expression turn sour in a matter of moments; it was the kind of look he'd seen on his mother's face; the perpetuating reason why his parents were divorced. Affection gone sour, trust betrayed. "Oookay, I clearly hit a sore spot-"

Mikaela stopped him just few paces away from Arcee and the others, her expression diffident. "Look, it's a long story I'd rather not talk about at the workplace, okay?" Mikaela interjected. Owen nodded animatedly raising his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, gotcha. Tell whenever you're ready," He said. "Or don't." Mikaela lowered her hand from his chest, tossing her hair over her shoulders she put a smile on her lips and walked into the open hand of Arcee. "Rodimus, it's been forever," The lithe Autobot greeted her partner as she sat Mikaela on her shoulder. "How's your charge?"

"Owen's-

"-His charge is fine, thanks," Owen and Hot Rod answered at the same time. Rodimus stared down at Owen with a rueful smile and said, "It's only been two weeks since I last saw you, Arcee. Owen, on the other hand-" he kneeled down and pressed a finger behind Owen's back, pushing him closer to the bot, "-was never properly introduced to you." Owen waved to the robot standing before him, secretly in awe at her size and the fact that Mikaela was so comfortable on her shoulder. "Hi, I'm Owen," He said.

"Arcee, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," Arcee extended a finger to the young man. Owen clasped his fingers around it and shook it gently, his awe becoming evident on his face. "S-Same here," He said.

This was officially the first time he would be spending any great amount of time with Autobots besides Hot Rod; the idea freaked him out more than he was letting on, but he knew they were good guys, at least as far as allegiances went.

A little voice in his head was telling him not to overreact, but memories of the past were hard to let go, especially when they weren't that long ago. Still, he would do his best not to come off as so skittish and when worse came to worse, he would just hide behind Hot Rod or Mikaela if any of them got too noisy.

(FIN)

Author's Note: So I've finally come to the end of a story that should've been completed roughly five years ago when I first started out. It didn't quite turn out like I hoped, but overall, I'm quite satisfied with it despite things turned out for the Bayformer universe. I'm glad to have written something about my favorite Autobot (Rodimus/Hot Rod 4EVA) and I hope the characterization of Owen didn't come off as too cloying. Let me know what you thought of the story overall. Laters.