Barricade pulled into a small covered area, stopping his engine and letting his own systems start to repair themselves. He'd had to drive through the forest for awhile, mindful enough to be thankful for his somewhat slim alt frame and that the undergrowth wasn't impossible to drive through. This place he found provided him some protection from whatever elements might decide to rain down on him with the number of trees around, and he had enough room to stand and stretch without being noticed if he wished to shift into his bipedal form.
After being beaten by the Autobot Scout Bumblebee he hadn't made it to Mission City in time to fight for the Allspark. It was later, after nearly a month of silence that he heard from Starscream that Megatron was dead. He had already known that, of course, because he had never been sent for. He might have failed, but he had been loyal, and loyalty like his was repaid if failures weren't made often. He was one of the few mechs that Megatron liked enough to keep in his general company, and while he didn't care much for his leader he didn't feel like dying any time soon and preferred to play nice.
His temporary partner, Frenzy, was also dead, and it was just another thing he didn't need Starscream to tell him about. Barricade would never have called them close but he did get a small amount of amusement from the little glitch. Frenzy was hyperactive, insane, and usually difficult to understand even when he did speak only one language at one time. It didn't surprise Barricade at all when he found out; Starscream seemed to relish the little mech's death more than appropriate, though.
A couple of days ago Starscream had found him, and he wished he would have just been left to fend on his own instead. He had never liked Seekers, their view of being better than the 'groundlings' annoying to him. Starscream had always been one of the worst to deal with, and there had never been any love between them, especially not with Barricade more favored by their Lord then the Seeker himself. So naturally when Starscream had arrived and started to order him around in the same second, Barricade had grown angry, and spat out that he'd rather turn into an Autodolt then be under Starscream's command. That hadn't gone over well with the temperamental Seeker. He'd already been wounded from his fight with the Autobot Scout, the Seeker ripping into him in his already mostly defenseless state just left him that much worse for wear.
And he couldn't even work on himself. He was a warrior, not a medic. He knew the basics, certainly. Most anyone with a sane processor that was in the Decepticon army did. However, he did not know enough to help his body with the stuff it needed to heal. Most of the time pain receptors couldn't be turned off unless the medic was highly skilled and more than capable in his work, and he was neither highly skilled nor capable with working on himself. So Barricade trying to patch up a coolant line would be the equivalent of a human going in to sew up a torn vein, without any pain medication or the like, and failing meant that he could hurt himself worse, or die, so it would just have to stay that way until somemech more capable from his team came along.
With nothing else to do he had drifted into stasis, a Cybertronian's version of a coma, often times medically induced by their own bodies if badly hurt, where his self-repair systems could work on some of the major and minor stuff.
If there was one thing Miles Lancaster knew it was that his best friend, Sam Witwicky, had started acting odd ever since he bought that old beaten up Camaro. After Sam had ditched him at the lake for Mikaela he had seen very little of his friend-if they even were still friends. He knew he had been a little harsh towards Mikaela that day, but he worried for Sam, and didn't want him hurt. And the way Sam was acting wasn't angry, anyway.
Miles couldn't say he actually hated Mikaela, even though he acted that way. He felt bad for his friend, who had liked Mikaela since first grade. From his, and practically everyone else's, observations Mikaela would never even look at Sam as dating material. So he had insulted and made fun of, hoping to drive his friend into finally getting over his misplaced crush. He was as shocked as everyone else that Mikaela was actually dating Sam, and couldn't help but think it wouldn't last long. Most of him hoped that it would last, though, and that it wasn't just some cruel bet or something like that.
Both Mikaela and Sam had disappeared for a few days, and when they came back Sam had a brand new Camaro and he and Mikaela were dating. It was fall by now and school had started back up, all of them in their last official year. Despite trying to hang out with Sam he was always busy with something or another, and even in school Mikaela and Sam tended to stick together and whisper to each other. Miles knew they were hiding something, and it had all started with that car.
He was upset with his friend. Even if he had been initially angry about anything said about his girlfriend, Miles had long ago made it clear that he was alright and happy with their relationship. And with everything that had obviously happened to the other teen it just made it worse because Sam wouldn't tell him despite how long the two had been friends.
In his most recent attempt to reconnect with Sam he had walked all the way to Sam's house just to be turned away because he was washing the Camaro and had a date with Mikaela later. So that left Miles with nothing to do but trudge back to his house in a defeated manner, and he didn't much feel like putting up with his mom's worried questioning, so he opted to go for a walk on some of the old walking trails in the forests near town.
He was angry at Sam, angry at Mikaela, angry at that blasted Camaro, but mostly he was angry at himself. Miles knew, in a way, that trying to reconnect with Sam at this point in time was hopeless without a catalyst. He knew he needed to think about a lot of things, like how much longer he could try to keep up the now seemingly one sided friendship that he was even reluctant to call a friendship, but he had always been stubborn.
Sam wasn't his only friend in school, but the teen was his closest. They had been best friends since they were little, and had gone through a lot together. For all intents and purposes they were basically brothers, or they had been. Their families were tight friends too, and during family reunions the boys would go to one another's and meet up with their 'extended family'. That's just how tight they were. All that had changed, and Miles couldn't figure out why. He felt like Sam had gone through something huge and left him on the opposite side of some gaping chasm. Something big had separated them, but he didn't know what.
Kicking a can hard just for being in his way, he jumped when the sound of it connecting with another metal object reached his ears. The can had flown through some bushes, and Miles shoved through them, curiosity and annoyance at his previous thoughts dictating he check it out. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but what he found was certainly not it.
A Saleen police cruiser sat surrounded by brush and trees as if hiding, the car itself banged up and filthy. Circling it, Miles found the words "to punish and enslave" on it instead of the usual police car slogan. Confused, he looked inside the windows finding it was unlocked, and looked to be abandoned if the layer of dust on it was any indication.
Taking a step back he looked at the car thoughtfully. It certainly looked like it hadn't been used in years, and he carefully opened up the driver's side door so that he could search inside of it. There was nothing indicating that anyone owned it, no documentation or any sort of papers in the glovebox. He stepped back and looked over the entire vehicle once more. With a bit of elbow grease the car could be made to look amazing once more.
An idea was already forming in his head. Maybe this was exactly what he could use to try and get closer to Sam again. Mikaela's dad owned a car repair shop, after all, and he loosely knew that the girl herself was an amazing mechanic. If he could get closer to Mikaela by asking her questions about repairs, maybe even having her look at the car and see what she'd recommend, then that would be a sure fire way of getting his best friend back. Maybe he could even earn some money by selling it, after checking with the local police, of course.
Satisfied with this new idea, Miles went home. By that Monday Miles had printed out all the papers he had thought would be useful. Things on how to hotwire a car, change tires, check the different systems, and some information about what should be going on under the hood, all the while silently thanking God for google. After school he filled up a container with gas, put it, a tool kit, and the papers in his back pack, and then biked back to where he had found the police cruiser.
He put the gas in the car, and then tried to hot wire it. Tried being the key word. An hour later he was thoroughly pissed off even with the directions on the printed papers, and he was about to give up when the car suddenly sprang to life.
"Finally!" he cried happily, pumping a fist in the air and finding the button to pop the hood.
Miles didn't pause to give how the car started up a second thought, he figured that he just finally managed to hot wire it. Looking under the hood he whistled at what he saw. He was no car buff, but even he could tell that was a pretty nice engine. Then again, he just naturally assumed anything that nice and shiny looking had to count as pretty nice. Grabbing the tool kit, he bent down to take a closer look, letting his hands roam over the engine. When the engine gave a sudden roar he jerked in surprise, narrowly avoiding slamming his head off the hood as he gave the engine a wide eyed look, only relaxing when it gave a choked sputtered and came to a quick stop.
Barricade was less than pleased to wake up to numerous alerts telling him that some stupid organic was playing with some of his wires. It took a moment for the Decepticon to feel less disoriented-coming out of stasis as fast as he did left the processor slow to catch up-but he quickly realized that the organic was trying to hot wire him, and let his engine start accordingly. He took a moment to scan himself when the organic backed off and cheered, interested to see that the creature had apparently replenished the gas in his tank. It was nothing close to energon, and perhaps that was why his repairs had done so little, but it was enough to give him some renewed energy.
Barricade realized his processor was still incredibly sluggish, hardly noticing the organic find the button to pop his hood open and then actually going around and lifting it open to look inside at his engine. He gave an angry rev when he did realize what was going on, taking some small enjoyment in the organic's startled reaction, but his engine quickly choked and gave up. As unhappy as he was to feel those disgusting hands messing around with delicate parts, the young organic did seem to know at least some of what he was doing.
He had just come out of stasis lock, and knew that staying low was his best option. He wanted to live, and as pleasing as the thought of squishing the inferior insect in front of him was, the last thing he wanted was the Autobots on his case. It didn't help that with him feeling as sluggish as he was he'd most likely not even be able to transform.
Barricade scanned the fleshling, and picking through his memory files, found him to be extremely similar to LadiesMan217. They appeared to be about the same age, and since he wasn't far from Tranquility, it wasn't a leap to assume that they went to the same school and might even know each other.
He decided that letting the fleshy live was the best option, for now. The thing seemed intent on fixing him for some reason, and Barricade would allow it that privilege. It would be quicker and easier than letting his systems do all the work. He scanned the surrounding area, searching through the internet for any possible information he might find useful while letting the insect work. He didn't have any pending alerts on his comm link, meaning no mech was attempting to communicate with him. A good few months had passed and there was no word from any of the Decepticons.
Barricade wasn't sure how he felt about that.
For the next few days Miles returned to his spot in the woods, working on the car. He didn't bother to tell anyone where he was going or what he was doing, mainly because his parents assumed he was smart enough to not be doing anything stupid, and he was only going after school was over and his homework was done.
He set out earlier on Saturday morning, making several trips on his bike. He had decided to start working on the outside of the car to get all the filth off, only able to do so much to repair the rest of it. He had no idea that the vehicle he was working on was alive, much less that it could feel everything he was doing to it. Because of that he decided to just fill the buckets up at the stream, the water already chilling to touch.
Cybertronians could survive the deep cold of space easily. They could even survive some high temperatures, depending on how high, of course. This did not mean, however, that they did not know the difference between hot and cold. They did, and they preferred, just like anything normal, to be in the middle. If one was in a mild climate and was suddenly attacked by cold they wouldn't like it, just like a human.
Barricade was in recharge when it happened. When Miles splashed the hood and windshield with that cold water, Barricade sprang out of recharge in shock. He forgot all about lying low and about letting the insect live, rage filling him instead at being awakened so rudely.
"WHAT THE FRAG IS WRONG WITH YOU?" he roared, starting his engine quickly and rolling across the few feet separating him and the fleshy, aiming to knock him to the ground.
Needless to say Miles was shocked, and stumbled back as Barricade drew closer. He stuttered out an automatic apology, falling on his ass as the police cruiser hit his shins, trying to crab crawl away desperately. His mind was just barely processing that the car was not only moving on its own, but talking as well, and that it seemed to be very displeased with him.
There was silence for a moment as the car stopped moving and Miles stopped trying to scramble away, nothing but the birds twittering happily and the sound of the leaves as they swayed in the breeze. Miles stared at the vehicle in front of him, getting the odd feeling that this was a very big moment in his life, and he wanted it to go well. If it didn't, well... that wasn't too hard to guess.
"You'll catch flies like that, fleshy." Barricade growled, and Miles got the feeling he was somehow being glared at.
Miles closed his mouth with an audible click as his teeth smacked together. Two minutes ago and the teen would have never pictured a talking car outside of the television or a book, and now it was real? His mind was racing with what he should say, should ask, and should do. Should he tell someone, or was the car wanting it's apparent life to be a secret? What did one say to a living car, anyway? Especially one that seemed to be unhappy with you? After another moment of indecision he decided to choose annoyance and he crossed his arms over his chest, leveling his own glare at the car in front of him.
"Now you look here, I'm not going to put up with any of this 'Ohhh, I'm a talking car! Let's scare poor Miles out of his wits!' nonsense! It's just cold water, you over-sized baby." Miles scolded, intent on making sure the car knew he wasn't scared nor would he be bossed around, only to bite his lip because the way the police cruiser twisted on its wheels and slumped a bit just screamed shock. He'd never thought cars could look like any kind of emotion before, but he never thought they could be alive either.
"You find out I can talk, and you must realize I could easily run you over, and you tell me off?" Barricade asked in disbelief, slowly starting to realize that the organic in front of him was clearly insane.
"Probably not the best thing to say, I admit." Miles allowed, bending over to retrieve the now empty bucket, "But either way if you were going to run me over you wouldn't wait until now to do it. Besides, you owe me."
"I..." Barricade trailed off, trying to see how Miles had possibly come to that conclusion, before laughing at the seeming audacity of that statement. "I owe you?"
"Yes, you owe me. I've spent close to a week fixing you up as best as I could, and today I planned to wash all that dirt off you." Miles replied, "I'm Miles Lancaster, and I'm not afraid of a dirty police car that looks like it's seen better days. Especially not one that gets cranky over a bit of cold water."
"You will address me as Barricade, fleshling." Barricade growled, "And if I didn't find you so useful you'd be dead. Watch your insolent tone."
Miles snorted and grinned, giving Barricade a mock salute. He realized how stupid it was to say those things to a car that could think, and seemed pretty pissed off at him, but what did he have to lose? The car, apparently called Barricade, hadn't done anything more to him than tap against his shins, so he felt relatively safe. The thought of fleeing was tossed aside by the amazement and excitement he felt. A talking car was pretty darned cool, in the long run.
Wisely he kept his mouth shut, allowing Barricade to cool off before bothering to ask any questions. The car gave him permission to go ahead and clean him off anyway and despite how eager he was to talk to the car, he spent his time cleaning the police cruiser off. It took a while, but after a few hours of hard work he got most of the dirt and grime off. He took a moment to circle Barricade, noting any scratches and dents he should attempt to tackle later. Smiling to himself, he sat a few feet away from the Decepticon and grabbed his lunch out of his back pack.
"Sho," Miles started with food in his mouth, using his hand as a napkin. Etiquette wasn't exactly on his mind. "Wha' exactly are you?"
"First off, fleshling, you are disgusting." Barricade informed him, tone sounding amazingly disgusted at the teen's actions. "And why exactly should I tell you anything?"
Miles managed to swallow before answering him, "Well, no one's come to find you and you haven't left this area. Seems like I'm all you got for company."
"Lucky me," Barricade drawled sarcastically.
"Look, I know nothing about you. I started fixing you up because I planned to sell you, since getting a job would be too time consuming, and you were going to be my ticket to solving the mystery..." A pause, and then he grinned. He was getting off track. "But I guess that idea just flew out the window. I doubt you'd like to be sold. I helped fix you up, and while I do appreciate you not killing me and all, you could still at least tell me what you are, how you got here, and what happened to you. You have nothing to lose by doing it, but if you tell me more about yourself maybe I could help you out more."
"Fine." Barricade said simply, seeing the point Miles made. He had nothing to lose by telling the fleshy, if anything he could gain a bit and have Miles fix him up further if he explained things.
By the time Barricade got done telling him the shortened version the sun was getting ready to set. He had explained about Cybertron and the war between the Autobots and the Decepticon, how he ended up on Earth and what he had done on the planet, told of having Frenzy but losing the tiny Decepticon, and then later having Starscream fight him. He didn't lie about what he did to try to get Archibald Witwicky's glasses off of Ladiesman217, he didn't see the point even if it did scare Miles away. Miles waited until he was done to ask any questions, and they spent another half hour answering those.
Finding out everything was more than a bit shocking, and the teen used the questions more as a way to avoid talking about Sam then actually being curious just yet. His best friend—if he could even still call Sam that—had known about Barricade much longer than he had, and apparently the two were supposed to be enemies. The whole thing about Cybertronians having no true gender but taking the pronouns on anyway confused Miles to no end, but if Barricade wanted to be called a he instead of an it than he would be called that.
Miles thought that probably meant he should leave and tell Sam about Barricade immediately, let his old friend know everything and have whoever needed to take care of the talking police car take care of it, but he also knew from the sounds of it that the robot in front of him was virtually defenseless. He hadn't seriously hurt Sam, just bruised him up a little and scared the piss out of him. Miles had done worse to his friend in all their years together. And for some reason he wanted to try and protect Barricade, because it sounded like everyone else had abandoned the Decepticon. How bad could he really be if he was willingly telling him everything and hadn't actually killed him?
"I know Sam," Miles admitted after a few minutes of silence, "we've been friends for forever. Well, we were friends, I'm not sure anymore. But this does explain a lot, especially about his car… Oh, and don't worry. I'm not going to tell him or that Bumblebee about you. I've spent precious time on fixing you up; the last thing I want is for the Autobot to damage you."
"You seem even more stupid then the average fleshling. To LadiesMan217 I am the bad guy, and I even threatened him." Barricade informed him, moving back a few feet so he was in his original spot.
"You threatened him, never hurt him. Scared him, but you scared me too, at first. Sam may be my friend, but he's been a piss poor one lately, and I don't owe him anything. You don't seem the type to attack him just for revenge over Megatron's death, especially since you know he has that Autobot watching over him. If I thought you were a threat I'd attempt to do something about it, but I don't think you are." He explained, standing up straight again to look at Barricade.
"I take that 'seem' back, you are even more stupid then the average fleshling." Barricade growled, scanning the fleshling once more. Nothing unusual about him, but he was reacting a lot differently than he had expected one of his kind to. Especially someone he could kill so easily. Barricade continued once he was satisfied with the scan, taking on a tone that not many would argue with even among the Decepticons. "You will come back tomorrow and I will show you my bipedal form. You can get to even more that way. And that is an order, fleshling. I expect you here by seven in the morning."
Miles just laughed, "Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, Barry!"
The teen was already out of Barricade's line of sight when the 'con registered what he'd been called, but Miles could still hear the angry rev of an engine, and he grinned to himself.