I do not own Transformers.
In all honesty, Bulkhead was expecting for Miko to be asleep for hours, and when he arrived from patrolling the night, he saw Miko and surprisingly Ratchet sleeping in the main room before he himself went to recharge for a bit.
So when Bulkhead exited his berthroom, quite refreshed and ready to start the new day, he was almost startled to see Miko waiting for him from across his metal door, sitting down while she hugged her legs to her chest and head down between the pockets of her knees.
He could see her feet tapping in an unrhythmic sound against the concrete floor.
"Miko?"
His charge shot her head up, a look of surprise on her face before happiness washed over her features.
"Bulkhead!" She exclaimed, quickly getting up to her feet before closing the distance between them. She stopped at his pede and wrapped her arms as much as she could around one of them.
Bulkhead saw a glance of her face and noticed how her face was red, especially rimmed around her eyes. He scooped her up, prompting for Miko to squeak out in surprise before realizing that her guardian picked her up.
Despite him being huge, he was just as soft and tender as most large animals were to their children. Miko hugged one of his digits as she went face-to-face with Bulkhead, a look of worry crossing his facial expression as he scanned for any injuries.
"Are you okay?" he questioned anxiously. "Your eyes are red and puffy."
Miko inwardly grimaced but quickly vanished it to give her wrecker guardian a large and reassuring smile. "Bulkhead, I'm fine-" she paused and felt her throat constrict at the mere thought of her broken guitar. She took a large breath and her smile lessened slightly. "I'm just tired...that's all."
Bulkhead cocked his helm to the side. "Shouldn't you sleeping then?"
Miko shrugged.
"I was ready to get up, plus, I need you to take me home so I can grab some supplies and take a shower."
"Oh..."
There was a hesitant look on Miko's face. Her posture wasn't the Miko he knew. She was always cheerful, sweet and always chattering her heart out about Slash Monkey or Dune bashing.
Something was very, very wrong.
Miko was never tired!
In last months he's known her, Miko was often the one to wake him up in an obscure amount of times in the middle of night. Its like she was never tired, but this? She admitted that she was tired this time.
Bulkhead furrowed his optic ridges together. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again.
She forced a wider smile and nodded.
"Yep! Lets just get out of here, I can feel the paint on skin chip off of me."
Bulkhead looked reluctant, but he knew better that Miko wouldn't say a word unless she came to him, so he nodded and allowed her to stay on his servos while he walked down the corridors of the base.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Bulkhead's tone was practically begging her as to why she was so...quiet. It was even more bemusing to see Miko avoid Optimus as they entered the base.
There were no 'hey's', no 'hi's' or any pleasant greeting. There was this tense fog that Miko and Optimus had in the atmosphere. And although Optimus had a stoic nature to him, even the green mech could tell that he was looking guilty and tense.
Miko didn't say a word to the Prime and quickly grabbed her stuff before shoving it all in Bulkhead's vehicular mode before hopping into the passengers seat and pleading for him to go.
Since then, the drive home was filled with silence.
And it worried the wrecker.
"I'm fine," Miko said tensely.
Bulkhead didn't say anything, but he did brake on his wheels, prompting for Miko to fly forwards and hit her head against his dashboard. Inwardly, Bulkhead winced and briefly thought that was a bit too much.
Luckily Miko was eager to reprimand the wrecker.
"What the hell, Bulkhead?!" Miko articulated irritably, rubbing a hand over her forehead, trying to soothe the throbbing feeling that was pounding against her skull.
Now she understood why Jack was so pissed off at Miko for throwing a large paintbrush right in the middle of his forehead.
Bulkhead remained quiet until he pulled to the curb in the middle of nowhere and stopped himself.
Eventually, the wrecker spoke an apology.
Miko released a lamented sigh and propped her feet on top of the dashboard, being mindful that nothing dirty was going get on Bulkhead's dashboard. She covered her eyes with her two fingers and bowed her head.
Instead of accepting the apology, she apologized back.
"I'm sorry Bulkhead," Miko murmured, her voice laced with tiredness and genuine honesty. "I'm just not feeling it today."
There was relief that flooded through the guardian's frame. He was happy that Miko was able to confess, but now there was whole different situation as to why she was not 'feeling it today'.
"Did something happen last night?" Bulkhead moved his mirrors to face the Japanese teenager. "Was is Ratchet?"
There was a playful tone in Bulkhead's vocals and while Miko was grateful for him to cheer her up, it made her even worse.
"No..."
Bulkhead's engine stuttered in surprise.
"Wait...seriously?" he questioned incredulously. Its not like Ratchet wasn't concerned of their health, in fact he was very intent on checking on their health, but when it came to complaining, it was mostly him about the children being so damn small, squishy and loud.
Bulkhead knew that Ratchet hid his concern behind his irritable stature and he deeply cared for them as if they were his own grandkids, but he was somewhat right about that.
Miko was the loud, however. And that's what Ratchet complained about the most.
So it was sort of surprising to see his charge shake her head and shrug her shoulders as she put her hands in her lap.
"Actually, Ratchet was pleasant. We had a little chat before I went to bed..." Miko bit her lip and looked out her passenger's seat window, a thoughtful look crossing her features. "I think he understands me a bit more now that we talked."
"That's-" Bulkhead's engine hummed softly. "That's great, Miko," he said genuinely.
"Yeah..."
"But that still doesn't explain why you're not...Miko," he emphasized the last part. A moment later, something hit him in his processor. He looked away from the girl and peered inside the backseat.
Wait...
"Miko...where's your guitar? Y'know, the wooden one?"
As if a dam had broken and gushed out water, Miko burst into tears as she held her head into her hands, prompting for Bulkhead to be startled. The shock was brief before it was replaced with worry.
"Miko?" he inquired urgently and anxiously. "Are you okay? What it something I said?!"
The Japanese teenager didn't say anything, hiding her face behind her petite hands and continued to bawl her eyes out as tears dripped from between her fingers.
The trembling of her shoulders and sloppy wet sobs was unnerving to Bulkhead. He has never seen Miko cry so hard before.
He wasn't really able to comfort her without revealing his alt-mode. All he could do was tighten his seat-belt around her, as if trying to give Miko a hug in comfort.
Bulkhead remained silent until her sobs dissolved into small sniffles and wiped her face against her wrist.
"Miko?" he talked slowly, making sure that she was officially done crying. When she made a noise, with what sounded like a reply, Bulkhead gazed at her with scrutiny with his rear mirror.
"Are you okay?"
"No."
It was a blunt answer and Bulkhead could tell that she was tense but saddened.
Bulkhead rumbled his engine. "May I ask why?"
Miko's started wobble as she tried to suppress the tears that were about to fall again.
"He broke it."
"He?"
The reply was once again too blunt for Bulkhead to understand the whole situation, but there was an obvious hint that someone broke her acoustic guitar. A second later, he could feel a swell of anger course through his wires.
Who the frag would break his little wrecker's guitar?
He swore, when he finds this...person-and he will-he will pound them to the ground-
"It was Optimus..." Miko's low and melancholy whisper jolted the wrecker's brooding thoughts as he took a sharp vent. Then, his engine stuttered, his processor shooing away those thoughts about pounding the culprit.
A sort of helplessness overwhelmed the wrecker, unsure on how to approach this situation.
"What do you mean?" Bulkhead asked softly.
"He stepped on it and-and-" Miko shook her head sadly, using her hand to wipe the snot and tears away from her face. "he broke it with his foot," she finished in a lamenting voice.
Instantly, Bulkhead deflated his tires completely. "Oh, Miko..."
Honestly, how was he supposed to even comfort his little wrecker is he couldn't do anything about it. Confront his leader about it? He already knew that Optimus was probably brooding over breaking a tiny organic's instrument, but not even talking to the Prime would fix anything.
Miko sniffed and she looked at the dashboard with a heartbreaking look. "Can we please go back to my house?" she asked meekly. Bulkhead wanted to say no, to allow her to pour out her feelings and let her know that he was here for her.
That she can always come to him if she was having problems. But with the look of Miko's face said it all. She was tired, depressed and emotionally vulnerable. She needed closure and if he couldn't provide that, then he'll bring her to where she was safe.
Silently, he started his engine once again and swerved onto the paved ground, the still quietness of his little friend killing his spark.
Optimus pinched the bridge of his nasal ridges, guilt swarming around his processor. It had been well over 3 hours after he broke the guitar, but it felt like minutes when stepped on it. He'll never forget the broken look on the Japanese teenager's face.
"Primus, what have I done?" he said under his vents.
"Hmm? What have you done?" the monotone voice of the Autobot CMO echoed in his overworking brain module and Optimus looked over his shoulder to see Ratchet watching him with a look of curiosity.
Hope filled Optimus' spark. Perhaps Ratchet can fix it.
"What the slag is that?!" Ratchet exclaimed, his optics averting to the broken pieces of the guitar. Smashed, it didn't look like anything of a guitar, which Optimus had to admit that Ratchet had his reasons to ask.
Optimus scooped up the smashed guitar and approached the medic with a pleading look. "Please, is there a way you can fix Miko's guitar-"
"Wait-" Ratchet held up a servo and Optimus closed his mouthplates shut. He watched Ratchet process his words before the CMO's optics bulged out with shock. "You broke Miko's guitar?!"
Optimus winced and nodded sorrowfully. "Unfortunately," he said quietly, gesturing to the broken bits and pieces of the acoustic guitar. Ratchet's mouth opened but no words came out.
"I fragged up," the Prime admitted, lowering his gaze towards the shattered guitar. "I really did..." He didn't need Ratchet or anyone to tell him so. The proof was right in his servos. Primus, he hated this!
He hated hurting the ones that didn't deserve pain. He hated feeling useless!
Ratchet blinked before sighing in response. The medic ran a servo over his tired faceplates, wondering how the frag anyone could replace something so special to Miko.
"That was the only thing that gave Miko a sense of comfort," Ratchet whispered, shaking his helm in disbelief. The only thing that made her feel calm when she felt she was too loud or the world was...
The words faded in the background of Ratchet's processor, still echoing and resonating.
Optimus closed his optics and took a big vent, absentmindedly cradling the crushed guitar to his chassis. "I didn't mean too," he deplored softly.
A quiet vent escaped from Ratchet, and Optimus didn't even need to look at the CMO to see the weariness on his faceplates. What he also didn't see was a gentle mass on weighing on his shoulderplate.
"I know you didn't mean to, Optimus," Ratchet said, sympathy lacing his tone.
"Its my fault."
"Yeah, it kind of is."
The blunt reply didn't really help but Optimus appreciated the honesty.
The Prime reopened his optics, still looking at the broken pieces before he looked ahead and furrowed his optic ridges together. "There has to be something we can replace Miko's guitar."
Ratchet remained quiet, and Optimus knew that he was thinking. However, he was already thinking of Agent Fowler or even June Darby helping him out with this dilemma.
Finally, the CMO patted the Prime's shoulderplate and graced him a weak grin.
"You know what to do, old friend."
Optimus looked back at his oldest friend and returned the grim smile before it fell from his lipplates. He averted his gaze towards the broken pieces still cradled in his servos.
With a gentle thumb, he pushed through the fragmented item and absentmindedly called Agent Fowler through his comms, processor listlessly going through ideas of how to fix Miko's guitar.
Then a voice filled his processor.
"This is Agent Fowler," the gruff voice said.
Optimus perked up.
"Agent Fowler," he greeted solemnly.
The other end was silent before a groan broke out. "Please, please tell me that you did not do anything that's going to cost me a fortune?" Fowler asked, desperate clear in his voice. Optimus winced, knowing that he and his Autobots did activities that weren't pleasing to the world's government.
"No," he replied. "Thankfully, we have not."
"Oh." Agent Fowler was silent for a moment. "Why'd you call me then?"
Optimus let out a deep vent, glancing back at Miko's broken guitar.
"I require your assistance."
Miko didn't know how long she was in the shower but by the time she realized she needed to get out was when the water was going cold. After drying herself and dressing, she shuffled to her bedroom and swung the door open.
She approached the window sluggishly, noticing the familiar green car parked on the curbside. The Japanese girl couldn't help but feel a spread of warmth expand throughout her chest.
Bulkhead was always a loyal 'bot, even though he did have to leave the wreckers for the time being. But she also knew that he would return eventually, should the war end.
And when the War would end-
Miko's warmth suddenly cold, her eyes gleaming with a spark of recognition and sadness.
-Bulkhead would have to leave.
She'll give him that, a robotic and galactic robot has been more loyal than anyone whose been in her life has been. It's weird how a Transformer understood her than most humans.
The Japanese jerked her head to view the 3 guitar stands, each of them but one holding a unique guitar.
Well...
She wouldn't say that they were the only ones to understand her. Biting her lip, Miko averted her gaze away from the stands, still feeling upset after her latest guitar was gone.
Shaking her head, Miko scolded herself for being so selfish. She knew that Optimus never meant to destroy it and when it came to leaving her possessions on the roof, it was to be expected to be squashed.
It was stupid, she had thought. Forget and move on, as what her parents had said over and over. But how could she forget something that made an impact in her life? How could she just forget the things that comforted her when no one else did.
A mere guitar-comforting her. People would have laughed at that comment.
Miko lowered her head, the bangs falling into her eyes and she thinned her lips.
Except, it did comfort her.
Miko wasn't dumb; in fact, she had a sharp mind. And there shouldn't be an excused to ask why Miko is Miko or why she left her all too perfect life to become the class punk kid.
They don't know and she learned that she didn't care after moving to Jasper. All she knew is that she took the things that gave her solace. Music. It was the only thing that practically understood her.
Mumbling something under her breath, she turned her body away from the window and decidedly to collapse onto her bed. Miko buried her head into the soft pillows and felt the soft duvet covers caress her arms.
Her chocolate brown eyes fluttered, fighting against the exhaustion, but to no avail she had fallen asleep in a matter of minutes.
"Let me get this straight."
Optimus watched the Autobots' liaison rub his temples with his finger, thinking hard and probably soothing a headache. In all honesty, Optimus wasn't expecting for Agent Fowler to get like this in the very beginning...it often comes in the middle of their conversations.
It also wasn't that early. Normally humans are up by 8am, right?
"You-" Agent Fowler pointed towards him, "-Want me to use these-" he then gestured to the broken pieces of wood parts and splints, "-to make another guitar because you destroyed a teenager's?"
Optimus merely nodded in reply, only causing Agent Fowler to sigh out loud in exasperation.
"Look, I know Miko and the kids are really special to you guys, and really, its sweet that you'd take consideration to try to get repairs on this guitar...but aren't you being to excessive with this?"
Optimus pinched his optical ridges together, as if that was almost a foolish question. Wasn't this what humans do to repay for destroying anothers?
"I fail to understand what you mean?"
Fowler shrugged. "I just feel like you're going way overboard with this. Can't I just give you a guitar and hippy-do-da, the kid's happy?"
Optimus shook his helm. "No, this guitar is too special to get rid of," he replied solemnly. The Prime let out a vent when Fowler rose a brow in response. Often times he knew that Agent Fowler was just trying to get more information to help, but this wasn't a military or government discussion. Admittedly, he's done it too.
The Autobot leader looked at the special agent, looking solemn and guilty-like. "You have recalled that the children were special to us, correct?"
Agent Fowler nodded imperceptibly.
"You are correct in that manner. I suppose we do care for them, as if we were..." he thought of the human word every person has. "Family," Optimus finally said. "And families do care for each other, which means I care for Miko, and the objects she holds close."
"Just get on with it!" Agent Fowler snapped, eyes twitching.
"I broke Miko's guitar that she loved very much...I just want to make things right, fix her instrument while also having the previous one she had before." Optimus leaned forward to the height of Agent Fowler's little frame. "This is not something I would not ask often, but as ally...and a friend, I need help to fix this."
Fowler's face softened, understanding dawning on him.
"Miko...she deserves this. I know humans have belongings that break their possessions every day, but this is something Miko held so close to her...I'd hate to take away something that she had an upbringing with." Optimus was on the verge of being desperate. He just wanted Miko to be happy and seeing her so grief-stricken was a blaster to his spark.
He has to fix this...
One thing he and William Fowler had in common was reading faces and body languages. And although they were completely different species, the man was able to discern his urgent request.
The Prime was relieved to see Agent Fowler nod and sigh quietly. "I will help you, Prime. When will you need it?"
"Could it be prepared by sundown?" Optimus asked hopefully.
Fowler let out a whistle as he wiped his forehead. "Most guitars take one to two months to build a guitar, but maybe I could get a guitar and have bits and pieces of Miko's and try to integrate it."
"Do what you must." Optimus paused and inclined his helm. "Thank you, Agent Fowler, this means much to me, and Miko."
Fowler scoffed and waved his hand. "Don't mention it...consider it an even for keeping Earth safe...though I think you deserve more than that."
Optimus couldn't help but give him an awry smile in return. "Trust me, Agent Fowler, staying on Earth is privileged enough."
The man rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I wonder how humble and unselfish you can get," he said with tired drawl.
"I was an Archivist turned into Autobot Leader, often times you have to adapt to your surroundings, but not without respecting those around you."
"Yeah, but you're also stubborn, so it evens it out."
Optimus rose an optic ridge. "Perhaps so, but I am not the only one," he said to Fowler, optics looking directly towards him. The man frowned and but didn't object.
Because yeah...both of them were right.
Miko woke up...surprisingly well.
Sitting up from her bed, she looked at the clock and she blinked in surprise.
4:30pm.
Ah.
Admittedly, 8 hours of sleep was what the girl needed the most, especially when staying up all night and barely managing to sleep 6 hours or more during the week was all she got.
The Japanese girl hummed and outstretched her arms over her head, limbs and joints cracking. Sighing in relief, Miko threw her legs off the bed and yawned out loud before standing up, feet touching the soft carpet.
She padded towards the window, and suddenly, a frown came to her face.
Miko expected to see Bulkhead's vehicle down there, or see an empty drive way, but there was a different car parked there.
The Japanese teenager knew that Bulkhead sometimes left in unexpected times whenever she was home and while she didn't mind it, Bulkhead always told her beforehand.
This time he didn't.
Instead, she stood in front of her window, confusion creasing her forehead as she looked at the Autobot's large truck mode parked in her teeny-tiny driveway. Like seriously, Optimus' wheels ran through her grass.
Turning away from the window, she grabbed a nearby hoodie, threw it on and walked out her bedroom.
She didn't bother with putting on footwear and merely stepped out onto the shockingly, warm concrete and walked over to Optimus with a blank facial expression.
As soon as Miko neared the red and blue truck, she heard the small click of his door open. Hesitating a bit, she climbed in and closed the passenger's door behind her.
There was a minute of silence as Miko settled in, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, tightly hugging them.
After another minute of silence, Optimus chipped in.
"I apologize if this was an inconvenience, Miko, I heard from Bulkhead you were recharging a bit ago," Optimus said quietly, his dashboard glowing. Miko shook her head and smiled weakly. "Nah, I just woke up."
"I hope you had a successful recharge then?"
"Yeah, slept for about 8 hours." She chuckled bitterly. "Its more than I can get usually."
Optimus was quiet for a moment and Miko could practically hear the gears twisting and turning inside the Autobot leader. Of course he would be concerned of her sleeping habits.
But also a damn hypocrite too.
Instead, he replied, "I'm glad, it seemed as though you needed it."
Caught by surprise, Miko jerked in reply and looked at the dashboard with a quizzical look.
"Uh, yeah, I guess," she murmured quietly, scratching the back of her head awkwardly.
No reprimands then.
Quietly, Optimus cleared his vocals. "I was wondering if...if you would like to get dinner?"
Miko's eyebrow shot up in surprise and somewhat suspicious. Don't get her wrong, but didn't Cybertronians live by energon?
"You..." she spoke slowly, as if analyzing her and his words. "want to take me to dinner?"
"Yes."
There was an awkward cough that came from Miko. It wasn't one of uncomfortableness, but rather confusion. It was bizarre for Optimus to randomly ask one of the children to go out for dinner.
He was a busy mech, so there really was no time to do the things they wanted to do together.
Plus, he was a huge alien robot.
"I guess so?" Miko rubbed the back of her neck, wondering if she was sleep dead asleep, because damn, it was difficult to answer to him.
"Wonderful," Optimus replied, almost giddy like to Miko. A flash appeared on top of his dashboard, showing a holoform of a lovely Japanese steakhouse a bit out of town. His engines rumbled. "Will this be a sufficient place to have dinner?"
Miko blinked.
The restaurant he was proposing was actually very nice. Her host parents brought her there as a celebrating on coming to America. However, it was quite pricy from her perspective.
"Its...kind of expansive," Miko explained, pursing her lips. "Are you sure you want to go there?"
"Of course." And his tone sounded determined.
"Alright."
Regardless of what restaurant they were going to, Miko had little idea on why Optimus had gone out his scheduled plans to have dinner with a Japanese punk girl.
As Optimus backed out of her driveway, she felt uneasiness settle in the pit of her stomach.
She should've just stayed asleep.
please review and let me know what you think!
One more chapter and i promise it will not take longer than this one took :)