Here are the freedoms of untouched storms.
-Unknown
-;-
When Ellie finally came back from wherever she'd buggered off too, Leon was speechless. Not just because Ellie had come back and she wasn't sad or anything. No, she was absolutely, positively livid. Not only that, but the mocha skinned woman had brought home a fucking Ferrari. And she was livid. How the hell did that make any sense? In the back of her mind, Leon realized she probably should have been questioning how her friend had managed to come across a Ferrari. Not only that, but it looked like it was the exact same one that had driven by not all that long ago.
"Ellie….." Leon began, only to shriek in terror as Ellie turned her famous death stare onto her friend. Leon could practically feel the killing intent coming off of her friend, and she slunk over to the couch instead of pursuing the topic for the moment. She'd rather not die, thank you very much. Her survival instincts were a bit stronger than that.
"Don't. Even. Start." Ellie hissed, stalking over to her chair and sitting herself down into it with a dark glower out the window at the Ferrari, muttering dark curses under her breath all the while. Something about men and time and something else, but Leon couldn't really tell. She was more so curious as to how the mocha skinned woman had managed to rile herself up into an even large fit than she'd left with. Really, it defied most logic that the brunette could come up with.
"Elina, are you- oh." Rosalina entered the room, eyes widening fractionally as she noted her granddaughter's dark stare levelling itself at her. A moment later, the elder Epps' look darkened as well, and Leon realized that she was suddenly in the middle of a danger-zone. Obviously, Rosalina wasn't going to take Ellie's attitude for what it was like Leon was content to do.
"Elina Rosa Epps, what has gotten you into such a bad mood?" Rosalina asked, placing her hands on her hips and lifting one brow challengingly. "Because I do not like that look that you're giving me one bit."
Ellie looked as though she were about to retort, and from experience Leon knew how bad that the retorts could be, but the mocha skinned woman changed her mind and snapped her jaw shut after a moment. Rosalina, still with hands on her hips, raised her brow further. It was quite clear that the older woman wasn't going anywhere until she managed to pry some kind of explanation from her granddaughter. "Well?"
"It's nothing, Nonna. I'm just in a bad mood because I picked up an unwanted…guest, of sorts." Ellie grumbled finally, crossing her arms over her stomach and looking towards the Ferrari pointedly as an explanation.
"What am I- is that a Ferrari!?" Rosalina squawked as she realized what exactly it was that her granddaughter was pointing out to her attention.
"Yes." The mocha skinned woman replied sourly.
"Why is there a Ferrari parked in front of our home, Elina." Rosalina recovered, her stern expression back in place. Leon wanted to know the same thing, but at the moment, she was still too terrified to actually try to enter the conversation herself.
"I can't tell you that."
"Elina…"
"It has to do with the military shit I'm involved with." The mocha skinned woman replied before Rosalina could rip her a new one with her verbal abuse. "I literally can't tell you."
"Elina Rosa, if there's something military related, I do not care that you will have to kill us afterwards. You will tell us, and you will tell us right this instant." Rosalina all but snarled, the kind and loving grandmother that they all knew and loved shoved aside to make room for the no-shit allowed monarch of the Epps family to step up. "And not only that, but I still want to know how you came to be in possession of a Ferrari that I am almost entirely certain that you could not have bought in the short time that you were gone."
Leon nodded along to Rosalina's words, agreeing entirely with the statement. If there were going to be military people swarming the place because of the expensive vehicle the mocha skinned woman had brought home, she wanted to know about it before it happened.
Ellie looked torn. On the one hand, she could tell her friend and her Nonna, and risk them getting hurt because of the Autobots, or she could keep quiet and risk being murdered in her sleep by the same friend and Nonna. But even so, she knew that nothing actually bad would come of her not telling them, but she would get the cold shoulder. But at the same time, they deserved to know the truth. She'd been hiding out here because of the damn Autobots and their involvement with her life in the first place. Telling Leon and her Nonna would put them in danger, yes, but at the same time, wasn't being in Italy in the first place putting them in danger anyway? If she recalled correctly, the Decepticon leader and Second in Command already knew her face; what would stop them from blowing her to bits on the street if they found her?
Finally, the mocha skinned woman heaved a sigh, knowing that there was going to be no way that she would even stand a chance of winning this argument with both of these particular women standing in front of her, while she silently cursed at the Autobot currently parked in the driveway in pretty much every language she knew.
"The Ferrari…isn't actually a Ferrari." She started, feeling like she was insane for saying such a thing.
"I'm sorry…what?" Leon asked, sure that she'd heard the mocha skinned woman wrong.
Ellie looked distinctly uncomfortable under the sudden scrutiny that the other two women were now bestowing upon her.
"The Ferrari. It isn't actually a Ferrari." She repeated. "It's actually a 'he'."
"What are you trying to tell us, exactly? That the cars all have genders? Okay, that's no big deal, we can deal with that. That's normal. Ish." Leon hummed, thinking out loud.
"No. Well, kind of. The cars have genders…but they aren't actually cars." Ellie mumbled, fidgeting with her hands on her stomach. "They're Cybertronians."
"Cyber- what?" Rosalina asked, confusion written all over her features. She'd moved over to stand behind the couch that Leon was currently sitting on, and had completely been distracted from whatever she'd been doing in the first place.
"Cybertronians. They're…robots. Autonomous Robotic Organisms is what they've told me they're called, but their faction prefers to be called the Autobots."
Leon felt a shot of dread fly through her at those words.
"Hold up." She said slowly, recalling several details from when she'd been flown to Diego Garcia. "You mean…that Camaro's name is actually Bumblebee?"
"Yeah. He prefers Bee, but his full name is Bumblebee." Ellie smiled briefly. "He was my best friend for the first while on the island. He's absolutely adorable."
"Was? You mean the Camaro's not there anymore?"
"No. He's guarding some kid by the name of Sam over in America." The mocha skinned woman shook her head before her expression darkened. "And that Italian glitch that's currently sitting in the driveway goes by the designation Mirage."
The cherry red Ferrari shook slightly, looking as though it were bristling in indignation before settling back down on its axles. Ellie flipped the mech the bird before turning her attention back to her tiny audience.
"So, any questions?"
-;-
"Ah can't believe Ah'm sayin' this, but Ah wish Red was here." Jazz groaned, laying his helm down on the keyboard that he had just been typing on with a vengeance. "You're good, Prowler, but Red knows even more than we do 'bout this tech. Mind, only 'cause he's so fragging paranoid, but…"
"I must agree with you." Prowl nodded slightly, though he didn't pause in his task as he used the now touch screen keypad that seemed to hover several inches off of the actual keyboard to bring up another window to join the several others that were already open and in use. "I will admit that although I am trained in this department, Red-Alert is the much more suitable mech to do the work."
"Amen." Jazz raised a servo in a vague motion that could have been interpreted as a salute before dropping it with a dull thud. "But Ah'm glad that Glyph could come in yesterday and help out. Ah vaguely remember that she was training for all of this when she was still and apprentice. Didn't remember until ya brought it up, though."
"Hn." Prowl hummed faintly, typing something in before a small smug smirk crossed his faceplates. "There. We now have the foundations of which to build into a similar database that could pass for the likes we possessed on Cybertron."
"Good ta hear." Jazz made the effort to lift his helm and smile, though it was slightly forced. "Ah'm still doing some decodin' and writing some new ones ta back up the firewalls. Speakin' of which, Ah've gone back and built them up so far Ah don't even think Red would be able ta break through 'em."
Prowl didn't say anything in reply, but Jazz could tell that he was pleased with the progress that they were making on the firewalls. Giving their past experiences with the Decepticons, (namely Soundwave and Shockwave) it was a very good thing that they had the best of the best collaborating on this project. It was also beneficial, considering that the last time that the Decepticons had seen the silver minibot, he'd been getting torn in half by their psychotic leader. The Autobots finally had an edge on the Decepticons, though not a lot of bots or humans would think so. But in the ranks of the 'Cons, they knew Jazz's name and spoke it reverently. The saboteur was one that nobot wasn't scared of.
"Well…Ah suppose Ah should go get some recharge. Ya comin'?"
"I will stay a little longer." Prowl replied.
"Alrigh'. Ya know where ta find meh if ya need company." Jazz shrugged, standing and moving over to the door. "See ya."
It wasn't as if he and Prowl were in a relationship of any kind, Jazz thought to himself as he sauntered down the hall. It was just that after so long of knowing one another, Jazz and Prowl had become accustomed to one another and their habits. How they lived, so to speak. And in turn, they both learned things about one another that others would never know due to the pair of them being so secretive. What most bots didn't know about Prowl was that he still had nightmares (the earth word was so strange for it…) about the destruction of Praxus. It slowly tortured the mech with the place that he'd once known and resided in, forcing him to watch as it came crashing down time and time again in a haunting memory loop that he was unable to online from. (And Jazz would know, considering that he had tried a great many things in the past.)
Venting, the minibot made his way to the rec room, knowing that before he did anything, a cube of energon would be a good idea. He'd spent Primus knew how long in that room with Prowl, just mindlessly coding and decoding everything and trying to enable the Autobots to have a system that would work with the human technology that they'd been presented with. And all things considered, they were doing quite well with their progress.
As he entered the large room, he immediately took note of Glyph sitting at the smaller of the tables that had been brought in, staring at her cube of energon with a far off look in her optics. Jazz knew that look. It was one that tipped him off that the blue femme wasn't adjusting to the new life that she'd chosen for herself as an Autobot as well as everyone else thought.
Moving over and grabbing himself a cube of energon, Jazz carefully walked over to the table the Glyph was seated at and took a seat across from her, and it was only when he touched the back of her servo that she finally snapped out of her daze.
"Oh- Jazz." She said softly, offering him a small smile. Unfortunately, Jazz could see right through the façade that the femme was hiding behind, and he tilted his helm to one side.
"Ah can tell you're not doin' as well as ev'rybot thinks." He replied, studying her faceplates carefully. Being a trained Espionage and Sabotage bot, (along with Interrogation) the mech had been specifically trained to read the signs of others movements and use that information to get what he wanted or needed. This was no different, despite the fact that it was now an ally and not an enemy that he was analyzing.
Glyph stared at him with a blank expression for a long moment, optics not wavering from Jazz's own, and then she nodded once, bowing her helm and cupping her servos further around the energon cube that was practically untouched in front of her.
"You're right." She admitted, sounding very much like a vulnerable youngling as she did so.
"Because ya never trained for it." Jazz deducted. Again, Glyph nodded, and the silver minibot knew that this was not going to be an easy conversation. "Look, Glyph. Ah know ya aren't a warrior femme. Everybot knows it. Ya just don't have it in ya. Ya were trained to be a scientist, a doctor. Not a killer."
"But there's nothing I can do while being a scientist here, Jazz. You and I both know that much. And although I could be a medic, I don't have that specific training. Besides, Ratchet's got Jolt and First-Aid. Jolt's still being mentored. And with the Decepticons always attacking, there's no time for Ratchet to mentor both of us. I know that much. And what would I do as a scientist? The things I researched in the field while on Cybertron differ greatly from the things here. Not only that, but it isn't the time for me to be out researching Earth while there is a war. The only other option I have is to be in the Femme Division. Besides, with Arcee and Elita-One gone…"
"Ya think ya only have the option of being a member of the Division." Jazz finished. "How are the femmes doin', anyway? Prime?"
Glyph vented, and Jazz could tell that it wasn't good. "Not very. Chromia never wanted to inherit Elita's position or responsibilities. She always swore that she would stay Second in Command. But given that Flareup and I just don't have what it takes, and the fact that Chromia was practically Elita-One's sister, it was really the only possibility. And The Prime…" Glyph paused, looking pained. "He is not doing well. He might look it, but he is far from it. I can tell. He's hurting and he doesn't know what to do. And he won't listen to Chromia when she points it out."
"His spark ain't gonna fade." Jazz shook his helm. "He's too stubborn for that. But if he doesn't focus, a lot of bots are gonna get offlined."
"Yeah." Glyph agreed, staring at the swirling energon before looking back up at Jazz. "Look, I appreciate the concern, but I've got to get going. Sunstreaker, Flareup and I are heading out in an hour, and I want to make sure we've got everything before we go."
"Of course." Jazz inclined his helm in understanding, watching the femme as she carefully stood, being wary of still fresh looking welds, and left, leaving behind the barely touched energon. Pity welled up in Jazz's spark for a moment as he watched the small femme go. She wasn't meant for this kind of war. None of the femmes were. But given Megatron's orders to kill femmes on sight, they really hadn't had much choice in the matter. It had either been join Megatron or be offlined. And unfortunately, most femmes and younglings had chosen offline.
"The world's a cruel, cruel place these days." Jazz sighed, downing his energon in a swift gulp.
-;-
Ellie was exhausted after all of the explanations that she'd had to give Leon and her grandmother. Absolutely and one hundred percent exhausted. And even now she was still upset about having to explain how her father had died and how she'd managed to escape from Egypt after almost dying herself. Well, not so much escape Egypt as threatening people to take her to the airport. So now, she was curled up in her room, staring at her wall. This was all their fault. If it hadn't been for the Decepticons and the Autobots, none of this would have ever happened. She would still have a father. She would still be living with Leon in San Francisco, and Leon would continue to be her klutzy self and Ellie would shop and get bleach for the mechanic every couple of weeks to wash out the stains in their clothing.
But at the same time, she wouldn't be pregnant. She wouldn't know all of the amazing people that she did know, and she wouldn't be in Italy with her Nonna and Leon and living life to the fullest. As much as two pregnant women and an older woman could, anyway.
She sighed, realizing that her thoughts were going around for the third loop in the last hour. It was a losing battle too, now that she thought about it. Thoughts, places, everything, simply blurred a bit and seemed as though it were in another life; as if it had been someone else to go through the things she had.
Mirage.
That was the other thought that was now popping up every few minutes or so. That fragging piece of scrap Ferrari that she was now stuck with for fourteen months because it was better than calling the Autobots and letting them sniff out her hiding spot.
And not only that, but he was the reason that she'd had to tell her Nonna and Leon the truth. The same truth that she still had nightmares about because all she could see now when she closed her eyes was the Decepticons leaning overhead with her father, and then Egypt. Thinking that Fig was dead and then realizing that he wasn't. She had been so relieved to find that he hadn't died. What did he think of her for disappearing?
Groaning, Ellie hauled herself up, feeling the familiar twinge in her lower regions that alerted her that she had to pee. Not only that, but she was going to have a good conversation with Mirage later, too. Preferably with something sharp so that she could scratch his paint or something along those lines.
Actually, now that she thought about it, Nonna had a pair of knitting needles lying around…
A sudden dark grin spread across the mocha skinned woman's features, and she moved towards the bathroom with a much lighter step than she had been a moment before. She knew exactly how she was going to relieve her irritation now.
-;-
Mirage was just beginning to fall into recharge when the sudden slamming of the door that led into the residence jolted him back into alertness. Wearily, he noted that it was the same mocha skinned woman who had brought him here in the first place, but made no move to show that he acknowledged that she was there.
Ellie, on the other hand, could just tell that Mirage wasn't in recharge. Considering she'd spent so much time around the Autobots, she had a sixth sense of sorts that would alert her if a 'bot was in recharge or not, and she was not getting that vibe off of the Ferrari that almost looked a little too innocent as it sat in her Nonna's garage.
The knitting needle in her hand was clenched tightly, but the mocha skinned woman didn't care. Stalking towards the front tire, she ignored the sudden questioning feel that Mirage was putting off and stabbed the needle deep into the tire. Almost immediately, there was the satisfying hiss of air as it escaped the now flat tire, closely followed by a hiss of pain and a number of curses that varied from Italian to Cybertronian spilling from Mirage's speakers.
"What the frag was that for, piccola peste?" Mirage snarled, revving his engine suddenly. Ellie snarled right back, brandishing her knitting needle and baring her teeth savagely.
"For making me have to tell my best friend and Nonna the truth about you and your fucking species!" she growled, smacking her palm on the hood to get her point across. "Now if you want another three holes in your tires, I suggest you sit still and shut the frag up, because I don't give a slagging frag about what you think about me right now!"
Mirage, to Ellie's mild astonishment, actually did just that, and with a satisfied snort, the mocha skinned woman retreated, closing the door to the garage with a bit more force than was necessary. All in all, however, she was feeling much better.
