A/N: Alright, I'm aware it's been FOREVER. I apologize profusely for this...college has been absolutely insane, as has moving and trying to figure out life. Becoming a senior is definitely draining; and not to mention the fact that I've literally been at a huge writer's block for this story. Hopefully it still has it's appeal and it headed in the right direction. Again, updates will be sparse until the summer, and even then they may be few and far between as I am planning my internship to graduate and a vacation, as well as working some major hours. And, on top of the chaotic, college lifestyle I find myself in, I am now in the process of entering a dating relationship, which requires some navigation, as I am treading new waters here. Anyway, you get the idea that updates are slow. Enjoy what's written, hopefully it's enough to satiate you, and thank you in advance for the reviews, favorites, and alerts! I'm greatly honored! More to come, eventually!

Forty-Seven

. . .

Elaina felt her body seize briefly before she froze like a stone.

A million thoughts bombarded her psyche like gunfire from a shooting line, taking her thoughts captive and throwing them into a frenzy of life. What was with all these "prototypes", as Optimus had called them, and what did they want? Who was controlling them-Galvatron; he'd said something about Megatron being reincarnated by human engineering? Was it even possible for humans to engineer Cybertronians? All her time with Ratchet, studying these beings and their science, came rushing back to her like floodwater-no, she didn't think it was possible...

But, then again, Elaina had never believed it was possible for robot beings to live on a different planet-and they did. Her friends-her compatriots-defied science and logic, and they had proven her wrong so many times before. She suddenly realized how she had missed them; NEST, and all their missions and times together: the studies, planning, training, explaining, grieving, fighting-she'd actually missed this. Perhaps she'd turned into more of a soldier than a woman of science than she'd previously thought, and as she stared blankly at the sight before her now, she took back the thought-no, she was the doctor, the scientist-Mira was the fighter.

The vastness of the vessel was striking, almost offsetting. Every nerve went cold within her body at the very sight of it, looming in the sky, inching closer and closer over the city and blocking the sky. Everything about it screamed dominance and war; she felt the presence of evil there on that vessel, far more than she had anywhere. Elaina got the explicit thought that it was here to destroy and destroy a lot-it would not leave bloodless and in quick stead-no, it was staying for a long while, and it would take lives with it.

"Optimus-" she swallowed thickly, her voice suddenly small and without tone or volume. As the ship came closer, she felt herself begin to shake in panic "-what, who-who is that?"

His reply was deep, raspy, and cold: "Lockdown. I did not think he would return so quickly."

Hundreds of questions formed in her little, unsophisticated human brain, "...return?" she mananged, "you mean it's-been here?"

"Not it," Optimus began. He shifted into reverse and Elaina noted that Bumblebee and Sideswipe had veered off the main road and were gone in different directions now. She wondered briefly where they were going, then recalled the situation with Mira and the other Autobots which was in need of attention. "The vessel belongs to Lockdown-a Neutral mercenary who has come for not only my head, for Mira as well. I'm afraid he will not leave until he has what he has come for."

"But how-"

Optimus interjected, as if he could read her thoughts. Among all his other talents, Elaina wondered briefly if he could, "-Lockdown has made an alliance with the humans who have managed to create the prototypes which we have been fighting; he has provided them with the necessary means to make more of them, in vast numbers. He has helped in the plan to harvest your world of life-and its resources."

She swallowed thickly. "Oh. How nice." She squeaked.

"I am afraid he is more of a threat than Galvatron, at least at the moment," Suddenly he opened her door and released her seatbelt, "which is why we must part ways here, doctor." She hopped out of the cab and closed the door, it thumping into place. He revved the engine and then stated, "I want you to find Mira and get her out of the city. I will deal with Lockdown-and I am hoping Galvatron will be preoccupied with coordinating his forces as opposed to finding the Seed." Without warning, he began his transformation, and within moments was standing before her; a colossal giant which she hardly could recognize. He didn't seem like the Optimus she knew-he was dark, brooding, and-cold.

"You know she's not going to leave without you," she shielded her eyes against the sun with her hand, "this is Mira we're talking about."

He was silent a moment, contemplating, before he responded; "I trust you will do what you think is best, Elaina." He nodded to her, drawing what appeared to be a sword from his back plating. She instantly was curious, but decided that was a story for another time, "Give Mira my best. Tell her to heed to reason."

"Mira doesn't heed to reason, Optimus. She heeds to the moment; you know that," she looked away, "She won't listen to me, she'll listen to you. Why don't you just-"

"Mira will listen to the situation. Every warrior has the ability to sense the current situation and assess the consequences. Do your best to persuade her otherwise, but ultimately; keep yourself, and the others around you, safe. Mira will go her own way, but the others may not. I trust you to give my orders at the moment, and I trust Mira to find her way-as every leader must do. The time has come for her to find herself, and her way of leadership; just as I once did." He flickered his optic ridges at her, "Get the civilians to safety, Elaina, and yourself. Do not be a hero when it is not required."

She rolled her eyes, "Somehow I think being a hero is always required around you guys. Oh, wait; I forgot. You believe fate comes at the least opportune time."

He gave her a soft smile, "I'm starting to believe fate has nothing to do with anything, Elaina. I am staring to believe that it has everything to do with destiny, and nothing to do with fate whatsoever."

"You think this is destiny? You think this is what you were born for?" She looked to the massive ship slowly darkening the horizon, and she felt her stomach drop into her kneecaps.

He smiled at her, "I think this..." he looked from her to the ship. His battle mask dropped into place, and she felt the heat of his anger, the plotting of his mind, the strength of his will come to life within his spark.

She felt the Optimus she knew, for the first time in a great while.

"I think this is what we were all born to do."

. . .

The blackness was cold.

Cold, though, only for a moment when she felt searing pain shoot up her spinal cord and resonate in the back of her neck. Her body, suddenly alive with flames of pain and ache, jolted her awake from the chilled blackness and her eyes were bombarded with daylight. Every nerve within her body rang with numbness; the type of numbness that felt like pinpricks on the skin. She had a hard time hearing, and a hard time thinking-heck, she had a hard time knowing what her name was.

She did not, however, have a hard time recognizing the screams of her friends and family, the shrill pleading of a boys cry and the hard thumping of heavy footfalls not ten yards away. Her head still swimming from the fall and her ears still ringing, she managed to realize she had fallen into an open dumpster; she could tell by the raunchy smell of rotten vegetables and other foods, as well as the stench of death. She took in a deep breath-at least tried to-and instantly regretted it, as her lungs protested by throwing her into a fit of coughing and gasping for breath.

Suddenly two hands appeared on the edge of the dumpster and a face came into view, and she instantly recognized it as her son, Merrick; the only one she had left in the world. She sat up, the world spinning, her chest hot; and lunged forward, grabbing the edge of the metal box on either side of his hands. She now stared at him head-on, and she realized he'd been crying-his face was red and his cheeks stained with dirt and tears.

Then, there was a erupting boom, one that shook the earth vehemently. Mira was jolted back from her place, slamming into the other side of the dumpster, which only made more pain erupt in her head and sent more ringing into her ears. She moaned, watched as Merrick's hands dropped off the side of the dumpster. She was so tired...her eyelids began to drop as the world got hazy.

"Oh no you don't, c'mon, you gotta stay awake." The voice was groggy, unrecognizable. The face, however, was tricky to picture but she could tell it was Cade Yeager, the man she'd been protecting-the man she'd drug into this war. He leaned over the edge of the dumpster and grabbed her shoulders. "Mira. It's me, Cade; you ok?"

"I-"

There was more gunfire, and heavy footfalls, and behind him she saw a hulking green figure, which was fuzzy, run forward; another figure beside him. She recognzied it as Hound, and he was returning gunfire. They had enemies upon them. In the distance she heard her brother, Bryce; and also she heard the screams of Tessa Yeager, Cade's daughter. Her stomach turned over in her gut and she felt as if she'd throw up, but not before she heard Merrick scream for her. Instantly she awakened, somewhat, and became fully aware Cade was fishing her out of the dumpster.

No. She wanted to stay in that dumpster-stay where she belonged, where she felt safe. Among the trash she felt secure, as if she had a place-she'd failed Optimus, and her team, and her friends. She'd failed Will by letting him get shot and take the bullet which had her name engrained on it. She'd failed Merrick by dragging him here into this hellish world, and she'd failed the Autobots by failing to take charge of the situation and lead like she was supposed to. She'd failed Optimus, by taking the Shield and using it to get herself caught and get Ratchet and the others killed. In that fleeting moment of being surrounded by rotting, stinking filth, Mira became aware that she had failed those closest to her-she couldn't do this.

She wasn't the right one. Optimus had made a mistake.

Still delirious, she had a hard time realizing Cade had gotten her out of the dumpster and had her in his arms-which would've been impressive if she could fully comprehend it, because she was a big woman. She could feel the strength of his legs, the tight bulging of his arms around her, the heat of exhaustion exuding from him as he managed to get her across the street. The world was hazy still, and she had a hard time hearing. She could, however, speak.

"Cade..." she whispered hoarsely. It hurt to speak.

"Yeah," he said, voice distorted and slow, "It's me. C'mon, stay awake," he stepped up, presumably on a curb, and suddenly the sunlight was gone above shade now. She felt him lower his body, and soon he emptied her from his arms and onto the concrete, against a wall. He was squatting before her, her head in his hands, the world still unable to be clearly seen by her eyes. She wondered briefly if she was dying...if this is what dying was like. "Mira. C'mon, Mira, stay awake." Why did he keep saying that? Was she really that close to falling asleep? When was the last time she'd slept anyway?

"You got me out of the trash," she managed. She felt him chuckle, and his thumb stroked against her cheek softly-calloused. His breath was warm on her face, and he smelled of sweat and smoke. Of steel. "You dug me out?"

"Sure did," he said softly, "you needed a hand."

She needed a lot more than that, and she failed to keep it to herself, "I...I needed a man..."

"Well, I don't know if you needed that-"

"I need you, Cade," all she could think about was that day in the car, the day when he'd kissed her so quickly and so smoothly that it had intoxicated her. All her mind could think about was that; with his smoky and thick smell swirly around her senses now in her hazy, undefined world. All she knew at the moment was that he was here, with her, and had fished her out of the trash. He had rescued her. She leaned forward, her voice dropping into a whisper mostly because she couldn't stand to talk, "I need you, Cade..."

Her eyelids dropped and didn't open, and she fell back into the cool, dank blackness.

. . .

Never in his life was Cade Yeager caught off guard. Surprised, yes, but never really caught off guard. He would admit that Mira was the most peculiar woman he'd ever met-heck, she was the strangest, most interesting woman he'd ever laid eyes on, but never had he been caught off guard by strange and exotic. Curious, maybe; perturbed, perhaps. But caught off guard? Not on your life.

But, at this very moment, with a very disillusioned Mira Lennox literally in his arms, he was caught as off guard as he could describe the term. His stomach flopped over in his belly, and he felt his heart kick into overdrive. His palms became sweaty, but he was sure she wasn't able to tell-her own face was riddled with sweat and grime. As her eyes fluttered and her breathing slowed he knew she was going to black out again-she could hardly form a sentence. He looked up from her to his surroundings: the KSI protoypes had them pinned down, and they'd managed to get Joshua out of the room with Savoy and Attinger-how he wasn't exactly sure, it had happened so quick. A block ahead he saw Bryce duck into a store, carrying the black tote of his shoulder, with Tessa and Merrick's hand in either of his; Joshua not far behind.

All he could think about, however, was the woman in his arms. She was so different and so strange, but so interesting and wonderful at once. He couldn't remember ever thinking a woman was more full of fight. Emily he loved, yes; and was passionate about life, but he could never say she was a figher; a Calamity Jane wouldn't be how he would describe her at all. But, this woman he realized was on the brink of extraordinary-perhaps not on the brink, but was extarordinary. She had the calling of a world-the following of a people-riding on her shoulders; the pledge of civility and freedom were written for her. She had a calling unlike anyone he knew. She had life, and power, and strength, and fervor unlike anyone he knew.

She made a mess of him unlike anyone he knew.

"I need you,Cade," he heard her whisper, hoarsely. He stroked his thumb against her cheek, watched her eyes fight to stay open-watched her fight to be alive, to breathe. She didn't appear to have internal injuries, but he knew she was riddled with haze and exhaustion and trauma. Her body was tense and hot and sweaty, and her face was streaked with a mixture of sweat, grime, and blood from a nice gash behind her right ear. Her warm blood was running into his hand. He listened to the Autobots fight without taking his eyes off her. He had the overwhelming desire to kiss her again, to taste her; to...feel her. She fell farther, if possible, into his hands.

"I need you, Cade..." Her eyelids dropped close, and she slumped entirely forward now, limp.

"Mira," he patted her cheek with his palm, "Mira! C'mon, Mira!"

"Bryce! Hound!" The new voice, a female one, piqued his attention. Cade rested Mira back against the wall and peeked around the corner, stabling himself as the earth was rattled with heavy footfalls and the massive weight of intergalactic enemies having at it. He saw a figure, running toward the engagement on the other side of the street-he figured it was the woman they were talking with earlier, Elaina was her name. She was a doctor and fellow compatriot of the Autobots.

Without thinking, Cade flailed his arms out, standing now. He came out of the alleyway and stepped off the curb, keeping one eye locked on the battle a few blocks ahead of him. The woman looked at him and slowed to a job, coming across the street quickly; face red and out of breath. She was disheveled, and obviously of Colombian descent. She had striking eyes and raven black hair, and a lively spirit. He turned and jogged back towards the alley.

"You must be a friend?" She asked. She had a slight accent, but spoke English; he could tell it was her first language.

"Something like that. Cade Yeager," he motioned to Mira's unconscious body and squatted beside her. The woman's eyes widened and she dropped down on her knees in front of Mira and took her face in her hands.

"Elaina Rutledge," she said quickly, patting Mira's face as he had, "What happened?" She asked, disbelieving.

"She, uh..she took a pretty high fall."

"How high?"

"Two stories?" He shrugged.

Her face paled. "Oh God. Did she land-"

"In a dumpster, it was pretty full," the woman helped Mira to the concrete and took her pulse, her head slightly bobbing as she counted. She then bit her lower lip and took her hands and pressed them against Mira's abdomen, feeling around. The then went down her extremeties and squeezed them slightly. "I don't thinks he has any internal injuries or broken bones, except for that gash behind her ear," she moved aside her matted hair and made a face, "It looks worse than it is I think. How long has she been out?"

"Four or five minutes," he sighed, "But we have to get her out of here before-"

"Yeager!"

Both of them whipped their attention across the street, where Savoy and Attinger where hunched around the corner, Savoy intently watching the battle, which had moved a block in their direction. Panic instantly shot through his body and he grabbed Mira's ankles, pulling her backwards. Elaina got up, clearly upset.

"What are you-?"

"Get down!" Cade sprang for her body, knocking her to the hard cement. She protested with a grunt as gunfire struck the brick behind them. She screamed, and Cade, still crouched, continued to drag Mira down the alley, his target the dumpster positioned against the bricks. Elaina finally assisted and they situated behind it, safe. For now.

"Who're they?"

"Bad news," Cade stated plainly, and we got to get out of here before they get the nerve to dare to cross," he glanced over the dumpster, "Hopefully Hound is aware they're here."

"What do they want?"

Cade exhaled, "God knows,"

There was a screeching of tires, and both of them popped their heads up to look over the dumpster. A revving engine alerted them both, before a blob of yellow soared past them; a Camaro doing at least 80. Another screeching of tires revealed green and black Corvette blocking the entrance to to alley, the passenger door open to them, the driver laying on the horn. Attinger and Savoy immediately started firing, and Cade spotted the holoform in the driver's seat. He rolled down the window and returned fire with a handgun. Cade knelt and took Mira in his arms, Elaina already rushing for the car.

"C'mon, c'mon, let's roll! I don't got all fraggin' day!" Crosshairs hollered at them, popping off more rounds. Elaina dived into the car, wriggled herself into the backseat, and Cade managed to dip into the car with Mira. Crosshairs immediately got a look of horror and disbelief on his face, and the handgun dissipated in his hand. Cade thumped the door closed and Crosshairs moved aside some of Mira's curls from her face, her head resting against his chest, as her limp form was awkwardly sitting on Cade's lap. "What the slag happened? Is she ok?" He touched her face and tucked some of her curls behind her ear.

"Long story," Cade said, rushed, "Let's just-"

Gunfire riddled the side panel of the car, and Crosshairs swore, throwing the car into reverse, slamming the clutch , and then pounding the gas to the floorboards before whipping the car around in a drift. He took off, tires squealing, around the corner before making another sharp right. "Motherfragger's punched holes in my side panel! I'm going to rip their genitals up their throats when I get my hands on-" he glanced up into the rearview, Cade noticing Elaina's rapid breathing and pale face. Crosshairs instantly quieted, looking away. "Elaina."

"Crosshairs," she managed, breathing hard. She swallowed and composed herself, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear. Cade touched Mira's face again, her still out cold, wondering if she was as okay as Elaina had promised.

" It's been awhile, Rutledge." He referred to her by last name now, a calmer tone in his voice than before. The holoform dissipated, fading into the air and he slowed the car to a stop, gently shifting it into park. Cade began to situate Mira in the driver's seat. "Glad to see your alive and well."

"As alive and well as I can be, under the circumstances," she leaned forward and pressed her fingers to Mira's neck again, taking her pulse for a second time, "She's ok. Her pulse is weak, but it's getting stronger. She'll be awake soon," she looked to the rearview. "You have a plan?"
"Not essentially," Cade interjected for the Corvette.

She nodded, beginning to shrug off her jean jacket. She balled it up and tossed it out Cade's open window to discard it.

"Do you?" Crosshairs asked, disbelieving.

She shook her head, "No. But Optimus does."