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Author's Note: As I reread this, I was greatly reminded that it was written ten years ago with the celebrities mentioned.
The Autobot Files
File #011 - Broken
The sound of happy chattering caused Brawn to look up from where he and Trailbreaker were cleaning their weapons. It was usually reserved as an indoor activity, but after a very snowy month, January was finally ending off with a cloudless day. The two Autobots wanted to take advantage of the sunshine while they could. In the clear winter air, one specific voice floated up to them as its owner traipsed around the dormant volcano's base, chatting endlessly to his companion.
Trailbreaker followed Brawn's gaze and grinned. "Look who finally blipped on Sideswipe's radar. Poor kid. She's not going to stand a chance now."
Brawn shook his head, but managed a chuckle. "At the risk of sounding sparkless, better her than us."
"Agreed," Trailbreaker confirmed and went back to cleaning his favorite blaster.
Behind them, Crystal was trying to out walk Sideswipe while he helped her carry in some odds and ends of Wheejack's. It was not working. The red Autobot had longer legs than she. He kept up quite easily, much to Crystal's despair.
It had been a few days since Sideswipe's big confession and with the way it went, Crystal didn't plan on seeing him too often after that. Sure, she didn't expect him to freak out and run away like he used to, but this...she almost preferred the way it used to be.
The tall red Autobot seemed to have taken it upon himself to make up for lost time. Whenever he could, he would hunt her down and talk happily at her all day long. He was just as bad as Bluestreak, possibly worse. At least sweet little Bluestreak always tried to rope it in for the sake of being polite and everything he said was sincere. With Sideswipe, all he wanted to talk about was stories about himself. They were fun at first to hear about all the hairy incidents he had Sunstreaker had gotten into, but now it was getting old.
"Really Sideswipe," Crystal interrupted his current story. Something about some bar fight on Cybertron. She was trying really hard not to listen. "I'm sure it was awesome, but I really have work to do."
"Just let me finish this. It's the last one, I promise," Sideswipe insisted. "You gotta hear what this guy said to me and Sunny when we..."
Crystal picked up the pace again, practically flying into Wheeljack's workshop. Sideswipe was still talking and keeping up as easily as if it were a casual stroll.
His story must have ended because it was quiet enough for Wheeljack to speak to her. "Thanks for cleaning those up. I forgot we were getting another storm last night."
"I hope it's the last one for a while," Crystal responded. "I'm tired of winter. That damn groundhog better give us good news come Friday."
It took Wheeljack a while to understand that statement. Oh yes, Groundhog's Day. As human holidays went, that one was one of the strangest. Even more so than bunnies that lay eggs or flying deer. A large rodent that controls the weather. What will humans think up next?
"Oh! That reminds me of another story!" Sidewipe announced.
Crystal groaned and make no attempt to hide it. "Can it wait until later? I have other things to do."
"But this one is so cool! It's about how I saved the pope."
Wheeljack couldn't allow himself to stay out of this one.
"Sideswipe, we have been over this. I was there. You didn't save the pope."
"You were there in the city, but you weren't THERE, Wheeljack. I totally saved the pope and he was all 'bless you, my son' and then he did this thing where—"
"Seriously, Sideswipe, you can tell that story a million times and I'm still not going to believe you."
"But I really did!"
Crystal saw her chance. She slipped out in the midst of the heated argument and neither Autobot saw her go. As she hurried to the far side of the base, she was so glad she had insisted on not getting a personal locator installed. How was she supposed to get any work done when anyone could find her and impede her progress?
Of course, now she was clear at the back of the Ark, near the Dinobot's lair. How was she supposed to get anything done from there? Maybe she could find something to work on back here, not that she had any tools. But maybe an inspection? Just make sure that everything was at least functional? That was a good idea. It kept her busy and, hopefully, kept her from being found for a while. Ah, blessed silence.
Too bad there still wasn't much to look at. There was the Dinobot's lair, but she herself made sure everything worked well in there, including the Dinobots themselves. The hall lights worked fine and there wasn't a lot of consuls around here to maintain. There was, however, that artillery hanger that was empty...
Crystal slowly turned her head to look at the door. It was the room she had to hide in while Ultra Magnus was visiting the base. It was the room she didn't like being in alone. Even with the door shut tight, it had the same feel of a dark, open doorway beckoning her to come inside. She stepped toward it slowly, fingers ghosting over the latch.
"What you doing?"
Crystal visibly jumped at the sound. Her fuel pump raced as she turned to the one who had addressed her.
"Oh, Slag. Hi."
The Dinobot was in root mode, looming over her with his arms crossed. He usually stayed in robot mode around her. She tended to pet his comrades when they were in dinosaur mode. He didn't like that. He didn't like her much either.
"Me Slag say what you doing!" he demanded again.
She ignored his attitude.
"You wouldn't by any chance happen to understand Cybertronian, do you Slag?"
The Dinobot took a moment to process the question and immediately frowned.
"So what? Just cuz you know more than Slag don't mean that–"
"Woah! Woah! I don't know it either! I was just asking!"
It placated him a little bit, but the surly Dinobot, it seemed, would never be truly satisfied with her.
"Fine. Do what you want. Me Slag going now."
Crystal sighed as the danger passed and moved on into the caves. Now to take care of her other problem.
.
Red Alert raced along the Oregon back roads, engine growling his frustration. All he wanted to do was let loose and go as fast as he could, but that was against the law. He had to constantly check his speed to make sure he wasn't exceeding the state limit. Again, as he had a hundred times before, he questioned what he was doing back here on Earth.
They didn't need him, of that he was sure. They already had one security expert who was also a commanding officer. So why had he been requested to transfer? Red Alert was informed that Prowl requested him specifically, but now he was very much doubting that. Prowl was the reason he was now tearing up the countryside in such a foul mood.
There had always been an unspoken competitive nature existing between them since day one. When they had first met, Prowl already had an impressive amount of schooling and experience under his belt and was quickly rising in the Autobot ranks. Red Alert had neither of these. He did, however, have a natural talent and intelligence that won him much attention. And while Prowl was divided with both tactic and security duties, Red Alert's only specialty was security. Yet, Prowl refused to release those duties from himself fully, even though Red Alert's record had been spotless and beyond reproach. That was, until the incident last time he came to Earth.
His early warning system was unique of its kind. It had sensitivity beyond what most medics understood. And no one could have guessed that exposing it to a mixture of Earth's air composition and gravity would have damaged it so greatly. It had degraded so much so fast that it had turned him into someone else completely. A system meant to protect his comrades transformed him into a massive ball of paranoia, confusing him so much he had even turned to Starscream—of all the horrible choices—to help him on his deranged mission to save himself from his invisible demons.
That was several Earth years ago. Shortly after it happened Prowl, in his infinite wisdom, transferred him straight back to Cybertron until Red Alert's systems could be thoroughly checked and guaranteed not to go haywire again. It was the only black smudge on a perfect record, but it was a large one. One that Red Alert had never recovered from. Not in his own optics and certainly not in the optics of his comrades.
As soon as he touched down back on Earth, he could see it in the other Autobots and he was not being paranoid about it. They all walked on egg shells around him, offered to help him do everything. It was if they didn't understand what happened to him was a singular glitch. It was fixed now and he was perfectly capable of doing the job he had done for millions of years just fine. He was not broken! He didn't need their help or their pity.
His engine growled his frustration and Red Alert had to check himself and slow down again. Gray slush sprayed his sides, but he didn't care. He was too angry. Prowl was being such a huge paint in the aft. Everything Red Alert did, Prowl corrected and lectured him. There wasn't a thing he could do right for the picky the second-in-command, and the situation was becoming downright insufferable. That morning, Red Alert had finally lost it and decided to fight back.
"Why did you even transfer me down here, Prowl, if I'm not up to your standard?" he snapped back.
Prowl's face remained emotionless and it was infuriating. "I wanted you back here to give you a second chance and you are wasting it."
"What are you talking about?" Red Alert was almost trembling, he was so frustrated. "I do my job flawlessly. I have done everything to your specifications. There is nothing more I can do!"
"This is true," Prowl acknowledged. "You know the mechanics of this job inside and out. However, you still let the incident from the last time overshadow you. You worry too much about what everyone thinks of you. Practicality and logic should be the driving force in a security expert. Fear drives you now. The fear of what the other Autobots think of you and the distrust you have in yourself. Until you master that, you cannot do this job to your full capability."
Red Alert hadn't known what to say. It didn't make any sense to him at all. He did the job correctly, it didn't matter what motivated him. And fear was a good thing, wasn't it? It kept one alive. It kept one working hard. Prowl was just picking on him because the slagger didn't have anything else better to do. He was trying to get Red Alert to give up and admit he couldn't cut it. That was it, Prowl wanted to get rid of him.
Red Alert almost slammed on the breaks at that thought. That thinking was too much like when his early warning system went haywire. It was startlingly easy to think that way. Red Alert quickly pushed the thought aside, fuel pump pounding.
He didn't get to worry about it too much when something else caught his attention. About a quarter mile in the distance, a train bridge stretched over the river. Crossing it, his sensors picked up a life form: human. That was not a safe place for a human to be at all.
Red Alert pulled over to the side of the road for a better inspection of the situation. The human stood near the middle of the bridge, looking down at the ice cold river. The individual was not attempting to cross. A close up on the face showed an expression of complete despair. Warning signals went off inside the Autobot's processor. No! He couldn't let that human go through with it!
The figure on the bridge looked up in confusion when emergency sirens were heard on the train bridge.
"Halt!" a voice called from the vehicle's speaker. "Cease your activity immediately!"
The human—a young female—took one look at the car barreling toward her, screamed, and ran for the other side of the bridge.
Red Alert was right at her heels and quite surprised with the speed the human was able to accomplish.
"I didn't do anything!" she cried. "Why are you chasing me!?"
"I'm trying to help you! Stop running!"
That didn't slow her down, however. Upon reaching the other side, the human threw herself off the tracks in hopes of not being ran over. Unfortunately, that move flung her directly into a dirty snow bank.
Red Alert transformed and stepped toward the girl who looked completely disgusted and defeated in the dirty snow.
"Are you injured?" he asked carefully.
"Why are you after me?" the human wailed. Her pants were already soaked through with dirty ice water. "I wasn't doing anything to you!"
"I—I was trying to help you," Red Alert insisted.
The girl's large eyes were watering and her voice began to crack. Boy, she thought she had been having a horrible day before this. Now, being chased into a muddy snow bank by an Autobot brought it to nearly catastrophic.
"Why?" she practically bawled. "Why me?!"
Red Alert looked confused. "Aren't you trying—weren't you going to jump off the bridge?"
All the tears stopped and she stared.
"Are you insane?! I wasn't going to kill myself!"
Anger replaced her self pity as she tried to pull herself out of the snow. "What kind of moron are you?"
She angrily tried to fight her way out which caused her to only sink deeper.
"I'm sorry," Red Alert said as he offered her his hand. "I thought you were in distress."
"My distress is none of your business!"
She grabbed the offered forefinger anyway and hefted herself up on her feet. The day was sunny, but it was still winter. Having to wear wet clothes outside would not be fun at all.
Red Alert knew all about humans and their discomfort with extreme temperatures. He transformed into car mode and opened his passenger door.
"Get in out of the cold. I can take you home."
Her anger seemed to be forgotten in the face of the rare opportunity to ride in an actual Autobot. She hopped in without argument and put on the seat belt.
"It's the least I could do for chasing you into the snow," he continued.
She breathed out. "Taking me home isn't doing me any favors. I was trying to get away from the house for a while to get some air."
Normally, Red Alert would have felt inclined to lecture one so young about being out alone on a dangerous bridge. But today, he fully understood the need to get out and away.
"Alright. Let's go driving for a bit then," he said as he turned his heater on high. "My name is Red Alert, by the way."
The girl smiled. "Sounds like a great plan. I'm Mercedes."
"There you are," Ratchet said as Crystal hurried into the medbay. "I hailed you on that new radio you claim works nearly ten minutes ago."
"Sorry," she said as she went to dig through the usual tools. "I was in the middle of something."
"Did you bring back that paint you took?"
She instantly looked guilty. "No. You said you didn't use that color for anything."
Ratchet shook his head in dismissal. He had said that.
"Nevermind then, you—are you feeling okay? You look a little nervous today. Kind of twitchy."
Crystal instantly schooled herself and put on her business face. "Nope, just fine. Let's get to work."
"Fine. We've got tune ups today. First appointment is here."
Crystal didn't even have to look to know who it was. Everyone was on a scheduled roster so that the medical department made sure they all had a timely check up.
"Hey Ratchet," Jazz grinned while he sat on the table. "You can leave Crys alone to do it. Then we can really play doctor."
"Hey Jazz," Crystal called as she held up a large power drill. "Guess where I'm going to put this!" She revved it for effect.
Jazz actually leaned away from her.
.
Now Ratchet was the one grinning. Not many had the energy to keep up with Jazz's personality. But Crystal was able to match his banter blow for blow every time. He had to admit, it was quite entertaining to watch.
While the three of them were amusing each other, Perceptor was left unnoticed. In fact, it may have not been noticed he was in there in the first place. That was just the kind of presence he had. Sometimes it was a bit disconcerting. Other times, it served his purposes.
Unknown to Crystal, when she installed a personal radio, it allowed anyone in the base to know where she was within a certain distance from the signal it gave. Most Autobots didn't bother to keep tabs on her that tightly. But Perceptor wasn't most Autobots. He had found himself a new project in studying her daily behavior. It was the first time in a long time Perceptor was able to observe and document what he considered to be a new species. The only one of her kind. And the scientist got his own personal thrill of being thorough in his research.
Crystal seemed to have a fairly routine schedule. But Perceptor noticed she had been spending quite a large amount of time in one single room that day. A room he had never documented her going into before. Also, he had heard Ratchet taking note of an altered demeanor after coming in late from being in said room. This required more investigation.
His quest lead him to the empty artillery closet at the back of the base near the Dinobot caves. Perceptor first listened at the door and scanned the area to see if anyone else was in there. It appeared to be unoccupied so he reached for the handle.
"Hi Perceptor!"
The scientist jumped at the happy, loud voice. He turned to see Bluestreak's inquisitive face.
"If you're looking for Crystal, she already left."
Perceptor smiled. Primus bless Bluestreak for what he knew and what he freely shared with everyone.
"So you've seen her in here. What has she been doing?"
A shrug from the Datsun.
"Not sure. I thought she hated this room. We made her stay in here when Ultra Magnus was around. She really didn't like this room. Never wanted to be left alone. I was surprised when I saw her go in there by herself this morning."
"Intriguing," Perceptor said. "Any idea what she was doing in there?"
Bluestreak looked sheepish. "I wanted to ask, but Sunstreaker told me I 'stick my nose in her slagging business too much'. So I left her alone." He laughed a bit awkwardly as almost an apology.
"I see." Perceptor went directly to the door. He had no such compunctions about that. Science was all about being snoopy.
Inside, the room was as empty as it had always been, save for a can of paint near the wall. Perceptor flipped on the lights and a whole other world was revealed.
There was writing all over the walls in lime green paint. Fascinated by the discovery, Perceptor stepped forward to closer inspect with Bluestreak peeking behind him.
The scientist's optics roved all over the writing in confusion. The letters were from the English alphabet, but they didn't form any English words. Perceptor quickly tried to run a match for other Earth languages. No results. He then attempted to speak it out loud to see if that would help.
"Sounds kind of like Cybertronian," Bluestreak offered.
"It does indeed," Perceptor agreed. "Quite an intriguing puzzle."
.
Mercedes sipped her hot chocolate and then sighed in contentment. This wasn't bad at all. The car—Autobot—was cozy and warm inside and she was quite comfortable.
"Feel better?"
"Much." She grinned. "As long as you don't mind my wet butt print on your seat."
"Uh, yes. That's fine. So, do you want to tell me why someone so young is wandering around outside alone?"
An amused smile from Mercedes.
"How old do you think I am?"
"I'm not the biggest expert on the subject, but I surmised fourteen, maybe fifteen?"
"I'll be eighteen in two months."
"Really. I venture to say you don't look it at all."
She shrugged as she pulled off her snow cap. Short black hair fell over blue eyes and a pale complexion.
"That's show biz. Keep them young as long as possible."
"So you are...a celebrity then?"
Mercedes signed as she fingered her cup and gazed out the passenger window.
"Not any more."
Red Alert thought on this.
"Is that why you were looking depressed on the bridge earlier?"
To his surprise, she barked out a laugh.
"Goodness no! I'm not that shallow!" She quickly hid her smile again. "It's quite the opposite, actually. My parents and my agent are pushing me to do a comeback."
"And what is it you do exactly?"
"I used to sing."
"And you don't want to do that anymore?"
"No, I do!" There was a desperate, frustrated tone in her voice. Red Alert felt himself voice that same tone several times as of lately.
"I love signing, but when I started getting popular—when the fans started getting crazy— when all the money deals came and the concerts and the appearances stacked up, that's when it all blew up.
"The money, the stress, it tore my parents apart. They got divorced and they still fight over every penny I make. Between the personal problems and all the performances, I broke down. Mentally and physically. I had to go to therapy. I had to have surgery on my larynx."
Her hand drifted to the pale scar on her throat as a frightened look crossed her face.
"And now they want to do it all again."
"There's nothing wrong with trying again," Red Alert reasoned. He sounded almost offended with the comment, as if it were personal.
"No," Mercedes corrected. " They want to do it all again. I heard my mom talking with my agent. They were already planning my next break down. They were guessing how long I would last!" Her voice started rising with emotion. "Have you ever failed so badly that no matter what you do, everyone expects you to screw it up again? Do you know what that's like?"
"Yes."
"No you don't!" Her words were cracking with emotion now. "You just say that try to make me feel better! Everyone says that! You don't really know! They see what I go through, but no one really knows what it's like to feel this way!"
"I do. I really do!"
"Oh, shut up!" There were tears in her eyes now. She flung the empty cup against the dash board. "I hate people telling me they understand when they don't! It's just lies! It doesn't help! How can you possibly get it?!"
The car interior was suddenly too small. Just like her house had gotten too small. It was suffocating. She didn't want to hear any response the Autobot had for her. She needed to get out of there.
Frantically, she jerked at the door handle several times, but it was locked. Rather than have his handle ripped off, Red Alert unlocked it and the hysterical teenager stumbled out. She caught herself and turned to the car with wild eyes.
"Don't try to save me anymore!" she screamed and bolted out of the parking lot.
Red Alert did not follow. He, too, understand the need to run away from such emotion and the need to be by oneself. He just hoped she would find her way home safely.
.
The day was long and there was much to think about for Red Alert. Mostly about his own situation and what Prowl had said to him. But also the girl he had met on the bridge. His thoughts kept wandering back to what she had said. So much frustration and confusion in such a small body. Young humans at that age seemed to get lost so easily in that muddy gray area between being a child and an adult.
He found he wanted to talk to her again. He saw his own frustrations mirrored in her so well. He wasn't sure if there was anything they could do for each other, despite their similar circumstances, but he wanted to try again.
The first step was finding her. She said her name was Mercedes, but that wasn't very helpful for an internet search unless he was looking for German automobiles. He tried searching for her name plus 'celebrity' and found a few clues. Her full name was Mercedes Lakes-Wilkins. The world knew her as Sadie Lakes.
Once that was figured out, it was easy to locate an entertainment website with a few video clips of her.
"Teen sensation Sadie Lakes collapsed on stage today during a San Diego concert," a news anchor reported. "The young star recovered enough to perform two more songs, but then the concert was cut short in consideration of her health. It has yet to be seen if this will affect the rest of her tour. Sources say her health has been deteriorating lately and it was only a matter of time before it happened."
Red Alert checked the date of the report. More than two years ago. He found similar reports within the same time frame. Reports of the young girl going into therapy and disappearing from the spotlight without any guess as to when she would be back.
Red Alert then looked for anything about her recently. He only found one.
"First on Entertainment Today, remember her?" An old picture of Mercedes appeared next to the anchor woman's head. "Sadie Lakes, a teen superstar nearly two years ago, ended her booming career suddenly after collapsing on stage during a concert. No one has heard from her since.
"Although recent rumors are that her doctor has given her the go ahead and she has a comeback planned, there have still not been any definite responses to what the young singer has been up to and when or if she'll really be back on the stage.
"However, one of our viewers shot this footage of Sadie screaming as she jumps out of a fire department emergency vehicle..."
The camera closed up on the red symbol decorating the car's hood.
"Yes, you saw right. That is an Autobot. Is this the beginning of a publicity stunt—"
"Hey Red! You're on TV," Sideswipe observed as he pointed at Teletrann's screen. "Who's the girl?"
"None of your business!" Red Alert snapped back.
Sideswipe gave him a judgmental look. "She doesn't look legal, Red. I'd lay off that for a few years. You know they send you to jail for that down here."
Red Alert quickly closed the video file.
"Sideswipe, really, isn't there anything helpful you can do with yourself around here?"
"Helpful? Here?" The red Autobot looked around the control room as if seeing it for the first time. "Not really."
.
Perceptor gathered those he could fit into the artillery closet to share in his findings. It was a little snug, but he, Optimus Prime, Prowl, Jazz and Ratchet all managed to get in there and still have a bit of turn around room.
"Crystal wrote all of this?" Jazz gawked at the paint. It meant nothing to him.
"Do you know what she was trying to do?" Prowl asked softly. His optics flickered over each group of non-words, trying to take them in.
"It took me a while to decipher it," Perceptor explained. "But I do believe it's ancient Cybertronian phonetically written out in English syllables. Quite poorly, but if you sound out the letters just right, you can make out little bits here and there."
"So she's got someone teaching her Cybertronian," Jazz shrugged. "Other than the fact that they're doing a horrible job of it, I don't see a problem."
"Don't even look at me," Ratchet defended. "I wasn't teaching her. She goes and does most of this on her own."
"This is...not good," Optimus said. He had been quiet since then and the tone was serious.
"I'm not sure I understand," Prowl said. "How does this..."
Optimus ran his finger under one of the lines. He said it out loud and then translated into English as he pointed to them.
"Get out. Get away from me. You don't belong here." He paused and then read another line. "I'll kill you."
A cold breeze seemed to flow into the air-tight room from nowhere and everyone fell silent.
The door opened and Crystal was extremely surprised to see her usual empty room filled with Autobots. Then her mouth tightened into a frown and she closed the door on them.
Jazz lunged to grab the handle, but it would not move.
"Hey! She locked us in! Any of you guys have access codes for this thing?"
A few moments later, Crystal strolled into Wheeljack's lab. She gave a calm greeting to the inventor before she sat herself at a table and took a few tools to the circuitry in her arm. Wheeljack hardly noticed she was removing her personal radio.
Two or three minutes passed before several Autobots came into the room. Wheeljack finally managed to get his attention away from his current project. Crystal, however, didn't look up at their entrance.
"Oh, don't do that, Crystal," Ratchet complained when he saw what she was doing. "You just installed that radio."
"It tells you guys where I am," Crystal growled. "You're all too nosy."
"And you're too smart for your own slagging good," Ratchet shot back as he sat at the table next to her. "Give me that screwdriver."
She leaned possessively away from him. "No, I've got it."
"Don't be paranoid! I'm not going to do anything to you!"
"Yeah, you just like you don't go snooping around behind my back instead of asking me to my face."
Optimus Prime placed an authoritative hand on the table and Crystal's indignation disappeared under his shadow.
"I am asking you to your face, do you know what you wrote on those walls? Do you know what it means?"
She shook her head, optics wide.
"Where did you hear it?"
"In the artillery closet." She didn't get a chance to think about changing her answer before it came out. Her upbringing was to be blamed for that. Her military father always expected a straight, honest answer.
"Who said it to you?" Optimus continued.
"No one."
"So you heard an Autobot say it to someone else?"
Crystal opened her mouth and then closed it again.
"Not...exactly..."
"Wait," Jazz jumped in. "So you heard it in the closet, but no one was there?"
Crystal remained silent.
Ratchet frowned. "Perhaps you should let Perceptor and I run a diagnostic—"
"There's nothing wrong with me!" Crystal jumped from her chair, slamming her palms flat on the table. "All of you need to mind your own damn business!"
She stalked through them to flee the room and they all stepped aside– save one. The last one by the door, Prowl grabbed her wrist and held it up between them. His grip was firm and unmoving as a statue. In it, Crystal's hand twitched in a nervous fashion. He looked at it and she willed her fingers still.
"Please let go, Prowl," she said in the calmest, steadiest voice she could muster.
He could crush her wrist in that grip easily if he wanted to. Any of them could. He looked like he wanted to in his frustration. She could feel his hand adjusting his strength so he wouldn't hurt her, but could still hold her if she tried to get away. She could see from his stern expression the wheels turning in his head. Prowl had an almost desperate passion for answers, and this was one he greatly wanted. But Crystal was not in the mood to give him that satisfaction. Instead, she stared him down and waited for her earlier request to be granted.
It took more than a minute of the two eyeing each other, but when it became obvious Crystal would neither move nor speak, Prowl relinquished his hold. Crystal threw one more glance at them all, then left.
.
Red Alert was sure he wanted to do this, but he wasn't sure how. He found her address, a large gated house with a guard. He didn't know if he would be allowed in or not. Of course he could always just transform and step over the fence, but that would hardly be proper. He needed to settle on a direct approach and then if that didn't work, he would figure out something else.
He was, however, unprepared for the guard to wave him in on sight. That was odd. Could it be because he was an Autobot, or had his arrival been expected? He found his answer when he drove up to the house and Mercedes herself stood on the front steps with the same boots and winter cap she had been wearing the day before She had a curiously large case with her this time.
"I've been waiting for you," she informed him.
"How did you know I was coming?"
"I didn't. I just hoped that a guy who would chase someone off a bridge would come back again to check on me."
"...Oh..." was the witty response.
Mercedes has already opened the passenger-side door and set her case in the back seat.
"What are you doing?" Red Alert demanded. "What is that?"
"That's my guitar and we are going out to have some fun." She closed the door and put on her seat belt. "Think of it as a second chance at a first impression."
Red Alert wasn't sure what to say. He had expected maybe a short talk with the girl, not a full day of activities. He had other things to do. Important things. Yet, he drove away with his passenger nonetheless.
Instead of going into town, Mercedes directed him up higher among the wooded hills. They ended up on a logging road rest stop overlooking a spectacular view of trees and the ocean far in the distance.
It was another sunny day. Mercedes sat herself on Red Alert's hood, plunking away on her guitar. She strummed a few tunes as she tried a few lyrics.
"You're going to sing again, then?" Red Alert asked. He was anxious to get the conversation going so it would be over.
"Thinking about it," she replied after a while. "Every time I think I might be done, I turn on the TV and see these horrible role models young girls have these days. Lindsay Lohan, the Olsen twins– they started out sweet, but now they're doing drugs and skanking it up everywhere. Then there's this Miley Cyrus. I had hopes for her, but now she's dating underwear models and dancing on stripper poles. It worries me."
Red Alert didn't say anything. He had no idea what she was talking about.
"I just want to give young girls something positive to aspire to, you know? Without the drugs and the promiscuity." She strummed a bit more, searching for a melody that seemed to elude her. "I just need to find a song worth coming back with."
"So you need to write a song," Red Alert mused. He knew next to nothing about Earth music, but he was still trying to participate in the conversation. "What kind of a song?"
"Mmmm...I'm thinking maybe a love song. I think the quality has really gone down over the generations. There's no heart, no eloquence to the words any more. We've gone from "I can't stop falling in love" to "Forever yours, Faithfully" to..." she paused and distaste took over her tone. "My life would suck without you."
Red Alert couldn't hide the amusement in his voice. "So you are going to write a great love song for your time? Have you ever been in love?"
"Well, no," Mercedes admitted. "Not for real. But I have an idea how it goes."
"I see."
She smiled. "Trust me, every little girl does."
She leaned back on his windshield and squinted at the sunny sky as she continued to play her music.
"So tell me your story, Red Alert. You said yesterday you understood me and my wild, teenage drama."
"I was just trying to say that I understand what it's like to screw up something and then have everyone expect you to do it again. That's all."
The tune had changed, but Mercedes kept playing. "How so?"
"My early warning sensors are more advanced than any other Autobot's, but they weren't built for Earth's oxygen rich atmosphere. The first time I came down here, they began to break down and malfunction. I fell into a void of paranoia and I couldn't stop. I didn't trust any of my friends or fellow Autobots. The worst part was no one understood that I was actually malfunctioning until it was over.
"Eventually, it got so bad I thought the very walls were coming after me. I fled the base and had the horrible luck of running into a very silver tongued Decepticon who convinced me I needed to get the Autobots before they got me. I stupidly let him into the base and he did quite a bit of damage and nearly killed the ones I was supposed to be protecting."
By now, Mercedes had stopped playing and it was silent all around them.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "But you're better now, right?"
"It doesn't matter," Red Alert said bitterly. "Everyone looks at me—treats me—like I'm forever broken. Even my friends, the ones who know me best, treat me like I'm...unstable. Like I'm going to break any minute. They think they're being supportive, but it just makes me feel like–"
"Like you can't break out of that shell they built around you," Mercedes finished. "Like they believe it so much, you can't change it no matter how much you try."
They fell silent for a moment.
There was a humming in Mercedes' pocket. She pulled out her cell and check the number with a sigh.
"Hey, Mom." Pause. "I went out! Just out...on the roads." Her voice rose in agitation. "No, no Spanish, Mom. Slow down, I can't understand– Mom. Mom. Mom? Mom. Mom, listen. Mom!"
"Mercedes, get in," Red Alert suddenly shouted at her. "Turn off the phone! Quickly!" He opened his passenger door.
"Mom, I gotta go," Mercedes said hastily. The Autobot's tone left no room for argument. She turned off the phone and slid to the ground. "What's going on?"
"Decepticon jets are approaching. We need to get out of the open."
She looked skyward. "I don't hear them coming."
"That's my early warning sensors," Red Alert explained as the human got in. "It will give us a head start, but they're fast. We need to get out of here."
They started down the road and there was an urgent tone to the Autobot's engine as they went. Mercedes wasn't sure what the fuss was about. There didn't seem to be Decepticons anywhere in the area.
"I think we're okay. I don't see anything," she told him.
"No," Red Alert insisted. "You don't understand. There's one of them that could catch us no matter—"
The sky seemed to crack open in a loud snap and it spit out something sleek and dark from nowhere. The second he saw him, Red Alert had already relayed a distress signal to the Ark. Hopefully support would arrive in time.
Mercedes watched with wide eyes as the black jet above them circled around and then unfolded to land in in their path, heavy enough to shake the ground and crack the pavement.
Red Alert slammed on his breaks mere inches from hitting Skywarp. If Mercedes hadn't been wearing her seat belt, she probably would have been thrown from the car.
"Trying to get away, Autobot?" Skywarp grinned wolfishly at him.
The Autobot spun his wheels in reverse and took off backwards down the road as fast as he could. In the passenger seat, Mercedes panicked as she glanced from front to back window.
"How can you drive like that? Omigod we're gonna crash!"
"Trust me, I know what I'm doing," Red Alert said. He fought to keep the strain out of his voice, but he was praying to Primus that he would actually know what to do.
Skywarp transformed and gave chase. Red Alert was still driving backwards as fast as he could up the mountain trail. When the Decepticon caught up to him, he slammed on his breaks again, throwing Mercedes back into her seat, and then lurched forward, now speeding down the mountain path.
Any aircraft needs room and time to circle around. Even one that can warp. But Skywarp had his own tricks. He wasn't always the brightest energon cube in the bundle, but he had an uncanny instinct for finding the fast way of doing things. The second Skywarp knew he had to turn around he slowed himself, transformed into root mode, rotated around and then took off after them in jet mode again.
"He's coming back!" Mercedes cried as she spied him out the rear window.
"He's not warping closer," Red Alert observed as he drove faster down to the base of the mountain. "He just wants some sport chasing us."
That meant Skywarp didn't care if he was wasting time, which meant he wasn't on any mission. That was a good sign. Idle, bored seekers were easier to handle than desperate, time pressed seekers worrying about the consequences of failing their leader. But that may have been the only thing going in Red Alert's favor. They raced down toward a large lake that bled into the ocean. Over the water flew Starscream.
Of all the faces he would be seeing on Earth again, this was the one Red Alert dreaded the most. He already knew what it would look like: full of supremacy and smugness. Starscream would always have that victory over him. Starscream, of all Decepticons, had a piece of him no one could ever recover. But Red Alert was determined that this Decepticon would have nothing else to hold over his head. Never again. He sped faster down the road. The Autobot rescue team had not yet arrived. He was all alone.
Starscream was closing in fast, as was Skywarp behind him. Soon Red Alert would be trapped between the seekers and the body of water. He had to think of something. There was a small boathouse on the bank of the lake. He sped up to it and opened his passenger door.
"Get in and hide! Don't come out until I tell you to."
Mercedes all but flew towards the safety of the simple shack, guitar case in hand. Once his interior was empty, Red Alert raced away from the boathouse. Inside, Mercedes peered out a dirty window to watch.
Skywarp landed just as Red Alert transformed into root mode near the water's edge. Seconds later, the grinning form of Starscream touched down on the other side, boxing him in between the two seekers and the lake.
"Well, well. Red Alert," Starscream's tone oozed superiority. "It has been a long time. I'm surprised the Autobots allowed a traitor like you to remain among them."
Red Alert narrowed his optics, but did not give Starscream the satisfaction of a response. Responding would raise his emotional level. He needed to stay calm to win this.
"What? Nothing to say to me?" He continued in a mocking tone. "I was your friend when all your comrades turned against you."
"You're an opportunistic rat!" Red Alert spat back.
Starscream just grinned wider. "They say opportunities knock only once. You have to grab it while you can. It certainly isn't my fault your fellow Autobots would rather chase you out of your own base than help you with your condition."
Red Alert growled. All his focus was on Starscream. Unfortunately, Skywarp was also all about opportunity. The moment Red Alert seem to forget he was there, he pounced. Any other Autobot would have been taken completely by surprise with a rear attack by a warping Decepticon. But Red Alert had something most Autobots didn't have, his early warning system.
He could feel that rift where the warp came in right before Skywarp appeared and cleanly dodged the fist flying for his head. Skywarp stood there, a bit stunned while Starscream managed to look amused.
"Only such a paranoid fool would see that coming. I suppose that defect of yours is good for something."
Anger was rising now. Skywarp had disappeared to re appear again and take another swipe, but Red Alert was already dodging as he yelled back at Starscream.
"I am NOT paranoid! And I'm not broken! You can think what you want—all of you can—but it's not true!"
By now, Skywarp had increased his determination to land a blow. He materialized in and out faster, trying to get the drop on the Autobot. Red Alert could see each attack coming, but Skywarp was getting too close. The Autobot hopped back further and began dashing around to make it hard for Skywarp to warp close enough to get a good shot.
Starscream stayed back to watch the deadly dance as Red Alert twisted and dodged every swing before it came. He was almost jealous of the Autobot's surprising finesse. Almost.
"I'm afraid, Red Alert, that it's out of your control," the seeker called to him. "The Autobots will always look at you differently now. There's nothing you can do about it."
"Arg! Stand still!" Skywarp barked as he warped again.
"Maybe," Red Alert said as he dodged another swing and dashed in the opposite direction, only to dash again before Skywarp could appear in front of him. "Or maybe I should look at myself differently first." He hopped to the side, dodged, dashed, and slowly began bringing the fight closer to Starscream who was really enjoying the show.
"You and the Autobots may have forgotten who I was, but I forgot something about myself as well."
Starscream smirked. "Like what?"
Red Alert dodged and then suddenly charged Starscream. The seeker braced for an attack, but the smaller Autobot slid cleanly between Starscream's legs. Before he could compute what was going on, Skywarp materialized into him. So close that both seeker's physical structures attempted to occupy the same space and merged, cockpit to cockpit. Both looked on in horror at having to be so close to the other.
"Everyone forgets," Red Alert told him. "I'm smarter than them. And I'm smarter than you."
It was at that moment, Red Alert realized that maybe one Autobot had not forgotten this. The one that pushed him the hardest. He kicked Starscream in the back and both seekers squawked and flailed as they fell over, Skywarp crushed on the bottom and trying to keep their faces from touching each other.
Red Alert ignored the comical sight and turned his head toward the road. "Better late than never, I suppose," he said to himself as two brightly colored Lamborghinis raced down the mountain, kicking up dust over a deep red van and a police car.
Sideswipe swerved right up to the water's edge while Sunstreaker stayed pragmatically behind, keeping his tires away from the mud. Sideswipe transformed and barked in laughter at the conjoined seekers struggling to get off each other.
"Ooh la la! Are we interrupting something?"
"Nice job, Red," Sunstreaker said. "I guess you managed not to fritz out this time."
Red Alert instantly took offense. "What do you mean this time?! I don't fritz out!"
"Get off! Getoffgetoffgetoff!" Starscream floundered and squawked like a cat with its tail caught.
Skywarp fought against him, focused on keeping his face away. This was closer than he ever wanted another male to be to him and his spark just wanted to slither out of its chamber. Seeing that they were thoroughly outnumbered, beaten, and humiliated, Skywarp grabbed Starscream and both of them disappeared.
With the threat gone, Red Alert walked over to the boathouse. Mercedes flew out, fists pumping the air.
"Red Alert! You were awesome!"
As she danced around him, Prowl approached and Red Alert's smile disappeared.
Prowl looked down at the under age human girl in his charge and Red Alert could already hear the lecture he was going to get.
"Red Alert," Prowl began. "I don't think—"
"I don't really give two shots what you think, Prowl," Red Alert shot back.
Then he promptly transformed into vehicle mode and drove away with Mercedes and her guitar inside. Prowl watched, blank expression until he was out of sight. Then the corners of his mouth ticked up.
"Hell'r you smilin' about?" Ironhide demanded when he saw Prowl's expression. "Y'all happy cuz yer're turnin' him inta one of yer clones so he can take over for you?"
Prowl clapped him on the shoulder. That was more or less the plan and Ironhide knew it. Red Alert was meant to be Prowl's replacement on Earth when they moved back to Cybertron. And right now, Prowl couldn't have felt more comfortable about that choice.
.
Crystal sat in her room, holding her wrist and staring at her hand. Her fingers twitched slightly. They used to not do that before. She didn't know why they were doing it now. It seemed to get worse when her stress levels rose. If she concentrated, she could get it to stop, but it made her wonder if this was a bad sign. Humans humans could get twitchy when they were under a lot of stress. But then again, when she was human, she wasn't very twitchy. Maybe she would watch it a little longer. Maybe it was nothing.
There was a knock on the door and she rose to answer it. She half expected it to be some sort of talk relating to what happened earlier that day. But the group of faces she saw were not who she was expecting.
"Hi!" Bluestreak chirped happily. Behind him was Wheeljack and...Smokescreen?
She stared at them, unable to fathom what they could possibly want.
"What—"
"For you." Smokescreen reached around Bluestreak and handed her a data pad with an extensive report on it.
Crystal looked at it blankly. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be seeing.
"It says the back part of the Ark was salvaged from a different ship," Smokescreen informed her. "A ship that was attacked by Decepticons. One of which died in that room."
Crystal stared at the report for a while, the cogs in her head turning. "And this means..."
"We're going to do some experiments!" Wheeljack announced, optics twinkling. For a robot without a face, he always managed to be expressive and right now he was doing his "Oh boy, SCIENCE!" face.
"Come on," Bluestreak urged, taking her hand. "We'll be there with you. Let's go find out what it is."
She nodded blankly and that was enough permission to pull her out of the room and down toward the back of the ship. She wandered behind them, staring at Bluestreak's back. How did they know about it? Bluestreak knew she had been in the artillery closet. Wheeljack was there when the other Autobots confronted her in his lab. Apparently they were more tight knit than she thought.
Wheeljack opened the door of the desired room and eagerly stepped inside first, equipment in his arms. Crystal followed close behind.
Bluestreak lingered.
"Tell the truth, Smokescreen. We're only doing this now because Prowl is out responding to that SOS, aren't we?"
"Yes, but not for our benefit. Think of it as...sparing Prowl the extra stress. You know this isn't his kind of thing."
Bluestreak consented. Smokescreen had a talent for bending logic to what suited him and it made sense here. He followed the blue Datsun inside.
Smokescreen made a noise of interest when he finally got a view at the walls himself. "Quite the display. You do this all yourself, kid?"
"You would just write it down as you heard it?" Wheeljack added.
Crystal shrugged. "As best I could, anyway. I don't understand Cybertronian. I wasn't sure if I was hearing it correctly. It's always shouting. Angry. Fast. I have a hard time getting anything out of it."
She couldn't see, but behind her, Bluestreak looked worried.
Smokescreen looked even more intrigued. "Can you hear it right now?"
Crystal looked around the room as if expecting to see or sense something. "Not right now. I've never heard it when others were in here with me."
She jumped a bit when Bluestreak put his hands on her shoulders.
"So you just...stayed in here by yourself and listened to that?" he asked softly.
"I was curious. It didn't hurt me, just startled me the first time. It's just noise."
"We'll see if we can find out exactly what it is," Wheeljack announced as he organized the devices he brought on a shelf. "If Smokescreen's theory is correct. If there really is some sort of life essence trapped in here, I should be able to pick it up."
"Is that normal?" Crystal wondered. "Hauntings with your kind?"
"Hardly documented, but not unheard of. I have a device here that's supposed to pick up spark energy. We'll see if it finds anything."
He had some kind of short, fishing pole looking device with a screen in his hands and he began to slowly wave it around.
Bluestreak still had his hands on Crystal's shoulders, she noticed, as Wheeljack wandered the room. He looked around as if waiting for something to jump out at them. She patted his hand. He was such a sweet Autobot. She felt bad she had ever tried to avoid him.
Then there was Smokescreen across the way who was, for the first time, not smirking at her or being a general jerk. He was maintaining his own space, leaning against the wall and watching Wheeljack work. He seemed generally interested with what was going on. Further more, he didn't seem to have any air of ulterior motive about him for once. Perhaps it was just his nature as an underground information specialist. He had dug up the files and he just wanted to know.
"So," Crystal spoke up to break the silence. "I thought you guys technically 'die' when your spark goes out. So why would you be looking for a spark signature?"
"To see if there's one to pick up," Wheeljack responded simply. "You do have a point, but a good scientist checks all the possibilities."
Crystal nodded and then thought for a moment. "So if the spark goes out...what's left of you? I mean, do you just disappear or do you go to, like, heaven or something?"
"The Matrix," Bluestreak said helpfully. "All sparks go to the Matrix after we go offline."
"But, you die when the spark is destroyed, don't you? So what is left to go there?"
Wheeljack and Bluestreak had to pause to try and find the words.
It was Smokescreen who actually stepped up. "Well, there's the spark and then there's the spark. It's just like humans. There's that part of you that breathes and radiates life in your body and then there's that part of you that doesn't need the body after it's dead. Same with us."
She rolled that over in her head. "So this Matrix, does everyone get to go there?"
"Jeeze you're full of questions," Smokescreen complained, sounding a bit more impatient. "Of course everyone goes there."
"Even Decepticons?"
"Of course not!" Bluestreak said. "It's the Autobot Matrix."
"Don't be stupid Blue, yes they do," Smokescreen insisted.
Bluestreak's optics widened and he looked at Wheeljack for support. The inventor shrugged. Legend around the Matrix was so old it blurred past a certain point, even in Cybertron's most accurate records.
"We all go there," Smokescreen insisted. "Decepticons are just a different faction, they're not separate from us. Before the war there was no such thing as Decepticons or Autobots and we all still went to the Matrix. Primus, use your processor, Bluestreak."
Bluestreak looked down, properly chastised.
Crystal was not happy about that at all. "You know what? You're an ass. I don't care what you know or whose brother you are, you don't get the right to treat others that way." She grabbed Bluestreak's hand and pulled him to the door. "You can do this with Wheeljack on your own. That is, if he can stand you. Jerk."
Smokescreen actually cringed when she slammed the door shut behind her.
"You are kind of a jerk," Wheeljack agreed.
Smokescreen sighed as his door panels wilted a bit. "I know," he lamented.
.
"Ugh! He drives me nuts!" Crystal announced as she stomped down the hall. "Why do you let him talk to you that way, Bluestreak? It's not your fault he's got brother issues."
He shrugged a little. "Smokescreen was probably right," he offered.
"It doesn't matter. Just because you think you know everything doesn't give you license to be a jackass."
"Oh, but he really does know," Bluestreak insisted with a bit of respect in his voice. "Smokescreen knows a lot of things. He's old."
Crystal made a face of disbelief. "He's not that old."
"No, he is!" his tone lowered and he leaned in as if to convey a deep secret. "He even knew his creator. Like, for a long time. Very few bots can say that."
"He doesn't look it. Are you sure? He can't be older than Ironhide, can he?"
"Way older. Autobot's honor."
Crystal still didn't look convinced. "How is it that he looks so young? He doesn't even look older than Prowl. Does he get, you know, like his face done or something?"
Bluestreak laughed. He obviously got some amusing mental picture from the question. He scratched at his cheek as he tried to come up with an answer she could understand.
"Well, you know, we're machines right? We don't show age like humans do. Our parts get old, our paint can flake, but that's easy to repair. We do age, but we age differently, each one of us."
Crystal didn't look like she was following. Bluestreak tried again.
"It's like...it's not time that ages us, right? It's more like the things that happen to us. Say two bots were built at the same time but one works in archives and one becomes a soldier. Chances are the soldier is going to age faster despite the same amount of time passing for both from what he's seen and what's happened to him."
"So you're saying that Smokescreen has, what, been a librarian his whole life?"
"Uh, not exactly. More like...sometimes you see something or something happens to you that keeps you young."
"Like what?" Crystal asked, intrigued.
Bluestreak smiled. "I really don't know."
ONE MONTH LATER
"Hello, I'm JayAnne Harper for Entertainment Today live at the much anticipated Sadie Lakes comeback concert. This will be the first stop of her new tour and wow, what a place to start! For the first time ever in music history, this concert is being held at Mount Saint Hilary, right outside the Autobot base. This is young artist is enjoying quite a unique collection of attendees, as well a small crowd of her most faithful fans.
"This is starting out to be the best comeback tour any artist could hope for and we still have yet to hear her brand new song Sadie has written herself for this concert. It is turning out to be quite an event!"
.
It had been Red Alert's idea. Even Mercedes was surprised, but delighted with the proposition. She had taken to the Autobots quite well. She adored Hound, especially his alt mode. She had already made him promise to take her camping when the snow melted.
Jazz found her cute in a novel sort of way. Though he wasn't much into the bubble gum pop she usually sang. She found him a bit out of date herself, but extremely entertaining. She never found out about the human turned robot that lived deep in the Ark. Very few ever did.
But Red Alert was clearly her favorite. After seeing his fight, she had developed a bit of hero worship for him. The concert only helped to enforce those feelings.
Red Alert had overseen all security measures with utmost confidence as a human crew came in to construct a stage. An area was set aside for a manageable crowd and any Autobots who wanted to attend could do so without the two groups being a danger or nuisance to each other.
Bumblebee decided to park in the crowd for the concert. Red Alert said he would not be held responsible for any damages incurred. Prowl agreed.
The concert had gone on swimmingly. Young girls screamed and cheered and spilled their sodas happily. The lights and equipment worked without complications and Mercedes was glowing with life and energy on stage. She played that crowd like she always belonged there.
Her first few songs were all old hits from previous years. Then she stopped for a breather and to address the crowd.
"Hey everyone, thanks for coming out to see me. It's been really great singing my old songs again. I want to take a quick moment to thank the Autobots for having me out here. It really means a lot to me."
Teenage girls shouted and cheered again. Several were crawling all over Bumblebee and even poking their heads outside his windows.
Mercedes laughed into the mic. "Looks like everyone is having a great time. I really appreciate all the support you've shown me tonight. Everyone ready to hear my new song?"
More excited screaming that made a few Autobots in the back wince from the pitch.
Mercedes removed her guitar and a stage hand took it f her.
"This song I wrote for a good friend of mine who taught me no matter what happens, no matter what people think of you, always believe in yourself. This song is called "Broken" and this is for you, Red Alert."
There were a few more cheers as Mercedes walked to the side of the stage where a light fell on the piano that had not been used the entire concert.
In the back, Red Alert's optics widened. He was watching the concert merely out of courtesy and to keep an eye on things. He hadn't expected this.
The crowd fell silent. Mercedes began to play, a slow, bittersweet tune. Much different than the fun, bubbly songs she had sung before. Her voice flowed into the mic with a different kind of beauty and maturity.
What have I done now?
How did it end up this way?
You look at me like you don't know me any more.
You twist your world around me.
Why were you the one who found me
When I was at my darkest on the floor?
And you won't ever forget.
Broken.
You look at me like I'm broken.
Don't you know how I feel?
This illusion isn't real
I'm stronger than you see
And you don't know me.
I can't change what happened.
I love you, but you don't understand.
When I see me through your eyes I wish you saw more.
I can't break this mask you gave me
And I don't need it to save me.
I'm no different from who I was before.
But I can't make you forget.
Broken
Why do you look at me like I'm broken?
There's nothing here to fix.
But your illusion of me sticks.
I'm stronger than you see.
I won't let it change me.
Red Alert was mesmerized by the performance. Something in his spark ached at the words that so clearly described feelings he had been wrestling with for so long. So that was what music was for. He was so involved in the performance, he jumped when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. It was Optimus Prime.
"You seemed to have had quite an influence on her," he said.
Red Alert smiled. "I think it was mutual."
When the song ended, the audience fell silent as the lights went off. Then the audience exploded with claps and cheers greater than before as Mercedes stood and bowed. Red Alert clapped as well.
Mercedes was beaming on stage. The song was a hit. The concert was a success.
.
When it was all over, Mercedes was driven home by her favorite escort. Her mother had attended the concert, but Mercedes insisted she could head home while she was still signing autographs. The young singer would get home on her own just fine.
Now it was very late and the back roads leading away from the Ark were dark, save Red Alert's headlights as he drove for the city. Mercedes was curled up in his back seat, exhausted, but happy.
"Uh, you did really good tonight, Mercedes," Red Alert said to her. "I've never actually seen a concert before, but I thought it was very good."
The teenager shifted in the back. "Mm...thanks," she muttered. Her voice was raspy from being used all night. She decided she liked laying the back seat. It felt comfortable and safe. She was drifting off.
"And the song, Mercedes, I really...thank you."
She smiled sleepily and sighed. "Love you..." she mumbled before she fell into a well deserved sleep.
Close File #011: Broken – Red Alert
