FINDING HOME
CHAPTER 3
BY VOODOO QUEEN
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello, Dear Readers! I'd like to take a second to thank all of you've who've taken the time to read and add this story to your alerts and favorites. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Extra special thanks to Edges05 for leaving me a review!
This chapter was updated on 10/23/2021 to correct spelling, grammar, flow, and other things my editing software missed.
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN TRANSFORMERS, JUST MY OWN ORIGINAL CHARACTERS AND PLOT.
XXXXXXXXXX
Doe was awake the next morning before her alarm even sounded even though she was exhausted all the way down to the depth of her being. She glanced at the clock on the small table beside her bed for what was probably the hundredth time. It was only 0445 hours, still fifteen minutes before she'd planned to get up. Not seeing any reason to continue lying in her bed staring at the ceiling, she hauled herself up and began to get ready for the day ahead. Her original intention had been to go to sleep early so she could get up right as the chow hall opened and be dressed, fed, and waiting for the base shuttle to take her to the main hangar no later than 0545. It hadn't worked out exactly according to her plan.
After Epps had finally gotten her to her room and she'd assured him for the millionth time that she was fine, she'd taken some time to unpack her sea bag and get her new space somewhat organized. Having lived onboard the ship for the last two years, the longest she'd ever been in one place, she really wasn't used to having her own space. She did her best to try to make the small, unfamiliar room feel as if it were her own, but that had always been a difficult chore as often as she was shuffled from place to place.
All the while she tried not to think about the strange, warm tingling feeling still fizzling about behind her breastbone. The sensation didn't hurt, not exactly, but it felt…peculiar. That was really the only word she could think of that did the feeling justice. It was unsettling to say the least. She wasn't a healthcare professional in any sense of the word and so, for all she knew, it could have been a normal reaction to receiving the kind of jolt she'd experienced. She tried not to dwell on it.
She'd eventually taken herself down to the chow hall and had eaten some lasagna and garlic toast which, honestly, hadn't tasted all that bad. The food on her ship was typically pretty good and she hadn't known what to expect. She had been pleasantly surprised. There were also a few other newbies there like herself, which had also been a pleasant discovery, all looking as lost and confused as she felt which put her mind at ease somewhat. She'd even had the good fortune to meet a fellow sailor and had to admit it was nice to see another speck of blue amongst the sea of green uniforms.
His name was Rashad Monroe, a Third-Class Electronic Warfare Technician who'd been whisked away from his command in much the same fashion she had been. He was staying in the same barracks she was, a floor below, and, after Monroe made the declaration that shipmates needed to stick together against the horde of soldiers and marines that made up the bulk of NEST's ranks, they'd agreed to meet each other in front of the building the next morning for breakfast and to try to locate the shuttle that was supposed to take to the other side of the base for the briefing. Safety in numbers and all that. They'd ended up sitting and talking to one another about the strangeness of the whole situation until the chow hall closed.
Upon returning to her room, she had gathered her personal care products and immediately set out to find the showers. It had been a long day and all she wanted to do was wash off the strangeness that clung to her and fall face-first into the oblivion of slumber. She'd showered quickly, changed into her pajamas, and made her way back to her assigned room without bothering to dry her hair. Peeling back the standard-issue covers, she'd climbed into bed fully expecting sleep to claim her quickly given the whirlwind of a day she'd had. Though she'd dozed off relatively quickly, her sleep was plagued by the strangest dream she could recall having in a very long time.
In her dream, she'd found herself standing on the edge of a seemingly unending expanse of darkness. Something enormously huge moved in the blackness just beyond her field of vision. She couldn't see it no matter how hard she tried, but she could certainly hear it as it rumbled continuously in some strange language that she couldn't understand in a deep bass of a voice that she could feel all the way down to her bones. She got the distinct impression that it was trying to tell her something important, but she couldn't make heads or tails of no matter how hard she tried. It didn't seem too concerned about her lack of understanding, though, as it continued to talk at her.
Looking deep into the darkness, trying to find the source of the nonsensical babbling, her eyes had instead found a small, bright pinpoint of light far, far on the other side of the nothingness that surrounded her. She felt herself strangely compelled to move toward it and so she did. She wasn't sure what the light was or where it was coming from, but she somehow knew it was the reason she was in this place and that she needed to reach it.
The voice followed, seemingly pleased with her decision to seek out the light if it's encouraging tone was anything to go on. It didn't seem to matter how far or how fast she moved forward, though, as the light never seemed to get any closer or any farther away. She was frustrated in her dream and had eventually woke feeling as if she really had been chasing after something elusive all night.
As she dressed herself, she had to admit that at least the dream, strange as it was, had been better than the nightmares she'd been dealing with since she was a child. She hadn't woken up in a cold sweat or with a scream on the tip of her tongue and so she supposed she couldn't complain too much. She pulled her t-shirt over her head, tucking it into her pants, and took a moment to run the tips of her fingers over the soft flesh of her inner arms, feeling the small, circular scars that dotted the otherwise smooth skin that was usually hidden beneath the long sleeves of her outer shirt. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly before pulling on the rest of her uniform. Yes, she decided, the dream had been infinitely better than her nightmares and, she reminded herself for the millionth time, she'd finally escaped the horrifying cycle she'd been forced to grow up in.
#
"OS2's in the house! Good morning," the man grinned.
"Hey, Monroe." Doe chuckled at her fellow sailor's greeting as she exited the building to meet him. "How was your first night?"
"Better than yours, apparently," the man looked her up and down. "Pardon my French, Doe, but you look like shit."
"Well, thank you for that," Doe snorted. She couldn't really get mad. She knew she looked like she'd tossed and turned all night, because she had. "I appreciate your honesty. I truly do."
"Anytime," he tipped his hat at her as they began making their way to the chow hall. "I'm starving. I hope they have made to order omelets like they did on the ship."
"That does sound really good. I love omelets. Or maybe some pancakes…" Doe's words trailed off as she caught a flash of silver out of the corner of her eye. Looking across the parking area, she saw the same car from the previous evening idling in the early morning light and still looking just as out of place as ever. This time, however, it seemed to have some company. Next to it sat a glossy, bright yellow Lamborghini Aventador Superveloce. The car was a bit flashier than its silver counterpart, just as outlandish to see driving around a military installation, and for some reason much more intimidating.
Doe felt a cold shiver work its way down her spine as goosebumps broke out all over her body and the strange warmth in her chest resumed its bizarre tingling. Before she could stop herself, she had taken a couple steps in the cars' direction. As in her dream, she felt compelled to close the distance between herself and what her subconscious believed to be her objective. When her brain caught up to what was happening, her entire body seized up and she froze where she stood. She shook her head to clear it. She felt wrong, off kilter. Something was amiss here and if she could just figure out what it was and how to sort it out, things would be okay. At this strange thought, she concluded that she probably should have taken Epps up on his offer to see a doctor. This wasn't normal.
The feeling that she was being carefully watched and scrutinized washed over her suddenly. She felt almost naked, sensing eyes boring into her, judging her, weighing her worth. She was all too familiar with the feeling and a nervous churning started in the pit of her stomach. She swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat as she tried to get a bead on the cause of her sudden paranoia. The prickling heat within her chest seemed to expand and contract with each pump of her rapidly beating heart. Distinctly uncomfortable, she raised a hand and pressed it firmly against her breast to rein in the unsettling feeling. No sooner had she done so; the yellow Lamborghini peeled angrily out of the parking area leaving hot, black tire marks in its wake. A couple seconds later, the silver one followed at a much more subdued pace. The feeling of being watched left with them. Doe wasn't sure if she was more frightened or relieved.
"Holy shit, man!" Monroe slapped her on the back and pointed in the direction the cars had gone. "Did you see those cars? Fucking Lamborghinis! Two of them!"
"Y-yeah, I-I saw them," Doe stuttered nervously.
Monroe whistled in appreciation. "All I want to know is, how much are they paying these assholes and when do we get our cut of the action? You know what I'm saying? I mean, damn! Can I get a Lamborghini up in here? That shit is tight!"
"Yeah," Doe muttered, feeling oddly bereft as the feeling in her chest began to settle once more. "They're nice."
"Nice?" Monroe looked at her incredulously. "A Buick is nice. A Cadillac is nice. Hell, my mom's minivan is nice. Those were Lam-Bor-Fucking-Ghinis! Come on OS2," he grabbed her by the elbow and resumed walking, dragging her along with him toward the chow hall. "Let's grab some breakfast and I'll do my best to educate you on the difference between 'that's a nice car' and 'DAMN, that's a nice car' before we have to meet the shuttle. I obviously have my work cut out for me. Jesus."
"Yeah, yeah…" Feeling some of the tension leave her body, Doe chuckled in amusement and followed along.
#
"Will!" Epps greeted his friend and colleague with a smile and a slap on the back. Looking up, he grinned, "Optimus, Ironhide. You guys made it back just in time. How was Alaska?"
"I don't like snow," Ironhide grumbled.
"You and me both, buddy," Epps commiserated. "Monique talked me into taking her and the kids skiing for vacation one year. I swore never again."
"I remember that," Captain William Lennox laughed. "Didn't you sprain your ankle on the beginner's slope and end up having to spend the whole trip laid up in the lodge?"
"Which wouldn't have happened if there hadn't been so much damn snow on the ground," Epps defended. "That shit is slick. Did you have time to stop in and see Sarah and Annabelle?"
"I did," Will grinned. "Sarah is holding down the fort like a champ and Annie is growing like a weed. She's pulling herself up on the coffee table and trying to walk already. It's unbelievable."
"Yes," Ironhide agreed, "your sparkling has made great improvements in her mobility since our last contact. Perhaps Epps would also be interested to know that Annabelle has learned her first word?"
"You know what, Ironhide," Will crossed his arms across his chest and glared up at the mech. "Fuck you, dude."
The Captain's words sent the big, lumbering mech into a fit of booming laughter.
"What?" Epps asked curiously, "What'd she say?"
"You know how with most kids their first word is mama or dada or something like that? Not my kid, no." Will threw his hands up. "The first word to come out of my kid's mouth is 'Hide'."
Epps burst into laughter, "That's messed up, man."
"Aw, slag," Ironhide chuckled and wiped a stray drop of cleansing fluid that had leaked from his optic. "Annabelle is an intelligent sparkling. You should be proud."
"Yeah," Will rolled his eyes. "Glad you think so, pal. Thanks."
An amused chuckle sounded from Prime who had been quietly watching the trio's antics. "Did all the new personnel manage to arrive safely?"
"Yes, Sir," Epps replied, refocusing his attention on the big bot. "All present and accounted for. Oh, and before I forget, I should probably let you guys know that Sideswipe shocked the hell out of the new Operations Specialist last night."
"What?" Will asked, worry lacing his tone, "What do you mean?"
"I mean, he rolled up on us and physically shocked the living daylights out of her." Epps shrugged, "I'm just saying that you may want to remind him that electrocuting humans can have unintended side effects, you know…like death."
"Please, Prime," Ironhide spoke up, optics glittering in anticipation. "Let me talk to him. Those two glitches have been begging to have their heads knocked together since they got here."
"Ironhide," Optimus warned with a shake of his head. Turning his attention back to Epps with a look of concern etched on his faceplates, "Is the woman unharmed?"
"Yeah," Epps nodded. "She was fine when I left her. She refused to get any medical attention, though. Said she didn't think it was necessary. I think it scared her more than anything."
"I see," Optimus emitted a long-suffering sigh. "I'll have a word with the two of them regarding safe Cybertronian-human interactions. Again."
Ironhide let out a vent of disappointment.
"Alright, gentlemen," Will checked his watch. "Now that that's settled, the new recruits will be arriving in the main hangar within the next fifteen minutes or so, so we should probably start rounding everyone up for the briefing."
"Bee didn't make it in in time. He's still at Sam's. I guess he was supposed to go on a school trip, but it got postponed." Epps offered, "I think Ratchet and Jazz are still in the med bay so they may not be able to be there. Everyone else should be standing by."
Concerned, Will asked, "Everything alright with Jazz?"
"Yeah," Epps nodded. "Ratchet says he's thrown something out of alignment that needs to be recalibrated or something like that. Nothing major. I feel sorry for Jazz, though. The doc was pissed."
Ironhide snorted, "If that slagger doesn't start following Ratchet's protocols he's going to find his aft welded down to a medical berth until he's fit for full duty."
"Indeed," Prime agreed. "Ratchet does not take kindly to having his orders disregarded. I'll speak with Jazz, as well. We need him to be at 100% and the only way that is going to happen is if he starts following Ratchet's orders. Right now, however, we have a briefing to carry out."
"You heard the man," Lennox grinned. "Let's get this party started."
END OF CHAPTER 3
TO BE CONTINUED...
