An odd but steady routine has been established since Crosshairs dropped into Ellie's property. Within the week she's made a habit of checking in on him a few times a day, once in the morning and a handful of times while the kids are at school. Naturally, neither of them are allowed to be near Crosshairs without her being there. She's positive that he isn't going to intentionally harm her children but Ellie would rather be safe than sorry. The few times she brings the kids in the garage with her, they generally stay quiet and observe. Maddie keeps her distance, mostly likely since Crosshairs's sheer size is intimidating in and of itself, but she's undoubtedly enthralled by the sight of an Autobot. Charlie is almost always gaping at him, the little boy always eager to get close but always warned away by his mother.
Crosshairs doesn't seem to be getting much better mentally. She still finds him staring at nothing and sometimes even mumbling in what she can only assume is his native language. There's some days he speaks, but when he does they are short sentences or single words. Other days he's closed off from the real world, still very much haunted by the attack in DC and ever troubled by what he still has trouble remembering. Ellie more often than not is talking by herself, but idle conversation she doesn't mind since she knows he's listening. Maybe it calms him.
Physically, though, he's looking better each day. He's wheezing a lot less, which Ellie would assume means the toxicities of the explosions have finally been filtered out of his ventilation. The scorch marks on his armor are steadily peeling away as his plating recalibrates itself, leaving behind dull gray patches where his paint has been burned off. Ellie's wondered a few times if that's something he'll want taken care of eventually but Crosshairs either hasn't taken notice of his appearance or isn't in the mindset to care.
Ellie enters the garage on a quiet weekend morning to something she's never seen before. She stops, surprised when she doesn't see Crosshairs sitting against the back of the garage. Instead, in his place is a very... desolate looking car. She isn't sure what to do right away so she stands there a little dumbly for a few minutes before saying, "Oh... good... morning?"
The car doesn't do anything. It's Crosshairs for sure, judging by the red and blue color scheme that's more or less grayed out in various areas. For a moment Ellie is genuinely fascinated that all twenty-eight feet and several tons of Autobot can fold down into a relatively small vehicle. Corvette, it looks like. She supposes this is where the informal term 'Transformers' comes from.
Snapping out of her initial surprise Ellie is tempted to just leave until she notices the collective ash that's gathered around the corners of the garage as a result of Crosshairs's armor healing over the burns. With her cleanliness getting the better of her, Ellie snatches the nearby broom and pan and decides to do a little tidying, if only so that Crosshairs doesn't have to sit in the remnants of what he's gone through.
She's sweeping the pile of ash and shrapnel to one side of the garage when a voice behind her speaks and startles her so hard that she squeals and drops the broom.
"Need help?"
"Oh my God!" Her hand flies to her rapid heart. She whips around to find herself face to face with a man she's never seen in her life. Immediately she's backing away, her eyes wide and cautious, "Who the hell are you?!"
The man stares at her. He looks like he's unsure of how to respond to her reaction and hesitates. Then he says calmly, "It's me."
"What?"
"It's me, Ellie," the man nods his head towards the Corvette and then turns back to her, "Crosshairs..."
It takes Ellie a full awkward minute to wrap her head around what he's just said. She looks at him, at the car, and back at him. She blinks, "You're... him?"
The man nods. Ellie places a hand on her forehead and turns away, "Jesus... but how... when did you... why are you..."
He brings a hand up, urging her to fall silent before she tries to say five things at once. He steps closer, not enough to breach her space but enough for her to look at little details. With a glance back at the Corvette he begins quietly, "That's me. But this is also me, just... projected into a human figure."
"Projected," Ellie furrows her brows, "So this is like some sort of... hologram of you as a human being...?"
He nods, bringing a hand up and looking at it as if it's something he's never seen before, "Somethin' like that, yeah. 'S called a holoform. Kinda like a hologram, just solid. Never actually used it before, till now..."
He fiddles with his fingers, setting the image of a man who truly doesn't know what to do with himself. Ellie can tell it's Crosshairs now that she's calmed down some. His voice is familiar with the Australian twang, the only difference being the absence of the subtle robotic undertones. He's every bit as tall in human form as he is in his true form -six feet and some inches, plenty high enough to tower over her still. A few strands of light, chestnut brown hair fall over his creased forehead and there's stubble along his jaw. Not quite enough for a full beard. He's definitely built for military, all broad shoulders and torso that narrow down to a thin, fit waist. His eyes, she realizes, are a stunning blue that somehow strike her as vaguely familiar.
And, dare she say it, he's more than a little appealing to the eye. But that's an observation quickly placed in the back of her mind. She's more concerned about the fact that he's standing before her looking more and more like a big lost puppy. Clearing her throat Ellie decides not to ponder on this 'holoform' thing and properly addresses him, "Right, well, um... what was it you were asking me?"
Crosshairs loosely gestures at her fallen broom, "Asked if you wanted help... with that..."
"Oh," Ellie's not sure whether to feel touched by the offer or just surprised, but she shakes her head, "No, it's okay. I can do it-"
He's already picking up the broom and swiping up the stray debris into the pile. He grips it awkwardly at first, clearly having never held a broom before, but he manages to find what works for him and does the chore easily enough. His brows are furrowed in deep concentration as if this is a much more complex task.
Ellie protests, "Really, you don't have to..."
"Let me. Please," he pushes her back when she tries to take the broom. His eyes are earnest and he shakes his head, "I need somethin' to do, else I'm gonna lose my fraggin' mind."
Ellie catches on right away. He's been cooped up in her garage for a week now, with nothing to do but to sit and practically drown in his own confusing thoughts. She can imagine how that is slowly but surely eating at him from the inside out. She nods, backing away, "Okay. But let me help you at least."
Without another word Ellie bounds to the other side of the garage and grabs another broom and pulls out a trash bag. She waits until Crosshairs finishes sweeping up their side of the garage and then spreads the bag open, "Here, sweep all that stuff up on the dustpan there and pour it in here."
She points and directs him on how to do that. It's confusing for him at first but he catches on eventually, using the dustpan to pour the ash and small pieces of shrapnel into the bag. Ellie watches with a tilted head, "Can't believe all of this came off you."
Crosshairs looks up and frowns, "...Sorry."
"It's okay, it isn't your fault," she replies with a soft voice, "Thank you for helping."
He just nods wordlessly and dumps the last of the debris into the bag. Ellie leads him to the other side of the garage, glancing briefly at his true form sitting idly in the center. She still has a lot of questions but decides now is not the time for them. Setting the bag down she uses her own broom and together they sweep it all up into another pile relatively quickly. She smiles a little when the thought crosses her mind that she's sweeping the garage with an Autobot. Of all the bizarre things she'd expected to be doing, this certainly wasn't one of them.
Crosshairs again dumps the pile into the trash bag that Ellie holds open. It's such a miniscule task but she can see that it's putting Crosshairs at ease. Having something to do seems to make him more relaxed, even a little more talkative and Ellie suddenly feels rather awful for having kept him in the garage for so long. Perhaps having a task at hand keeps his mind occupied. While she mulls over this Crosshairs promptly takes the bag, ties it, and stands there patiently. It takes her a short moment to realize he's waiting for her.
"Uh, right out here," she murmurs, exiting the garage. She meanders across the backyard, Crosshairs in tow. She approaches the green trash can sitting against the side of the house and opens it for him to drop the bag inside. Ellie sighs contently now that that's done and meets eyes with Crosshairs. The Autobot, however, doesn't seem to be looking at her and Ellie can see that he's frowning.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
He shakes his head and looks down, "I don't know what to do."
Ellie rounds the trash can and, after a moment's hesitation, gently reaches out and touches his shoulder. She's surprised to feel how solid it is, like she's really touching another human. It's off-putting but she ignores it in favor of getting his attention. His blue eyes meet hers again and he mumbles, "Everything's gone. Everyone's gone and it's just... me."
Ellie bites her lip, "Do you... remember anyone else getting out?"
Crosshairs shakes his head. His eyes flicker over to her hand still touching his shoulder, an odd expression twisting his face. Unsure of what that could mean Ellie pulls her hand away. He doesn't like being touched, probably. She clears her throat, an idea popping into her mind. A potentially bad idea, but an idea.
"Would... would you like to come inside?"
Crosshairs isn't sure what exactly compels him to nod his head. Simple curiosity? Politeness? Confusion? Maybe it's a little bit of all of that. He trails behind the much smaller human female as she treads into her home. It's utterly bizarre, taking a human form. It's a piece of software that N.E.S.T. had required all Autobots to possess but Crosshairs had never felt compelled to use his holoform and try to be human. Now, though, he finds himself wondering why he'd never tried.
There's a strange fascination to being so small. The world around him suddenly doesn't feel tiny and he feels like he actually fits on the planet. The moment Ellie had led him outside, he'd taken a short moment to look and the trees that now towered over him and the environment which now had a completely different perspective. The out-of-body experience that comes with the holoform is something that's going to take some getting used to.
His eyes land on Ellie's small frame as she leads him into the house. The human woman is a bit of a mystery to him. There's a lot he doesn't understand about her, like why she's been so adamant about taking care of him, or why she lives out here, or why her offsprings' male creator is seemingly missing. Seeing her up close, Crosshairs can't help but to take in the little details he's failed to notice in his true form.
Little things like the way she shifts between each hip during conversation, like she's anxious. Her movements are skittish, letting it be known that as willing as she is to help him, there's still some underlying fear. He's taken notice of the light bounce of her blonde hair, tied up in a tight ponytail, and the soft, pale complexion of her skin. Her eyes are a sky blue, gentle and light and currently a little wide since he's been unknowingly staring.
He blinks and quickly looks away, half mumbling an apology.
"We've got to work on your staring, mister," she says with the smallest hint of a smile. Crosshairs doesn't find the comment humorous and she notices it so she clears her throat and gestures around her, "Anyways, um, this is my home. The kids are in school right now, so you don't have to worry about being bothered by them. You mentioned that you needed something to do, so... I figured I could help you find something that'll keep you little occupied. Here, this way."
She beckons him into the living room. It's homey, with a warm fireplace and a lush couch and a coffee table. Crosshairs takes a moment to look around, relatively interested given that he's never actually been in a human household before. It's always been one N.E.S.T. operated base after another the moment he'd landed. His eyes return to Ellie when she picks up the television remote, showing it to him.
"If you want you can watch some television... if you guys ever do that sort of thing. I also have a lot of books," she puts the remote down and points at the nearby bookshelf, "I know reading probably isn't your thing, but they're there in case you want to try picking one up. Who knows, maybe it'll help you relax."
Crosshairs somehow doubts that reading is going to help him but he nods and glances at the bookshelf. He supposes she's forgotten that he can tap into the internet and quite literally download any book or piece of literature in a matter of seconds. His eyes wander past the bookshelf and examine what's around him.
Ellie takes a deep breath and half-smiles, "Well, uh, feel free to wander around, too. Just... don't break anything, please. I'm going to take a shower so holler if you need anything."
With that she slips upstairs, leaving Crosshairs on his own. He frowns upon watching her go, knowing that the woman is very nervous around him. And yet, she's invited him into her home and offered to let him roam around on his own. He's not sure whether to consider her foolish or generous. He shakes his head dismissively, knowing his tactical thinking is beginning to take over. No, it's not strategic but it's not like Ellie letting him in is a bad move on a battlefield.
Crosshairs takes a few minutes to wander aimlessly around. Ellie's home isn't anything special but his lack of human interaction all but spurs on his mild curiosity of how they function. He eyes the pictures hung up in the hallway and recognizes the small, smiling faces of Ellie's children. Many of them are pictures of the two of them when they were significantly younger and others look a little more recent.
He takes his time mapping out every room in the house, but when that doesn't seem to ease his mind he busies himself with looking at the books Ellie had previously pointed out. With quick search - ups of the titles he comes to the conclusion that Ellie apparently has a taste for suspenseful dramas. Not really his own forte.
A noise upstairs mildly startles him and he freezes with a book in hand. After a moment he realizes it's her shower and huffs, placing the book back. His eyes land on the TV remote and after a short moment of thought he grabs it and turns the television on. As soon as he does though, a deep frown sets on his face as he watches the news broadcast.
"...We're here with Harold Attinger, a CIA operative who is willing to speak upon the recent destruction in Washington DC. On to you, sir."
"Yes, hello. At approximately 6:30 am on November 11th, a unit of agents approached N.E.S.T. headquarters that faithful night to initiate a lockdown in response to the Battle of Chicago just last year. The CIA unit was met with hostile force from the Autobots, in which case they had to act accordingly to defend themselves as well as the nation. Upon establishing contact with the American Air Force, we had ordered five missiles to strike the base when it had become evident that the Autobots were no longer our allies. We have since addressed the president, as well as the Senate, in order to determine our next course of action regarding this unprecedented event."
"And Mr. Attinger, it's no secret that in destroying N.E.S.T.'s headquarters, hundreds of human lives were lost. Can you explain the thought process on the sacrifice of so many lives in response to the Autobots' resilience?"
"We were well aware that the base was occupied by soldiers and the like. Let it be known that our unit had offered numerous warnings to ensure the humans involved in this conflict had the opportunity to leave. As it would seem, countless N.E.S.T. soldiers had chosen to stay."
"Stay as in, stay with the Autobots?"
"Yes."
"Mr. Attinger, why would it be that so many of those soldiers had decided to stand with the Autobots? Especially considering statements that say that the Autobots were hostile?"
"That I am afraid I have no answer for. However, the situation has made one thing vividly clear; the Autobots, and those who still stand by them, are a threat to our country. Their retaliation has only proved that they are as they seem: highly dangerous and uncontrollable creatures. My CIA unit, Cemetery Wind, is specialized in tracking any Autobots who may have survived the attack. If any civilians have any information, they are to call immediately..."
Crosshairs turns it off with a growl deep in his throat, "Fraggin' liar. It wasn't us..."
Something sparks in his processor. A memory abruptly clicks itself into place and Crosshairs has to sit down heavily on the couch as it comes full force into his mind.
There's a line of agents surrounding the base's entrance. They have guns trained on the front lining N.E.S.T. soldiers before them. He's standing among the Autobots who are bristling with anger, betrayal, fear. There's a smaller gray Autobot cowering behind him. Optimus stands before the agents, William Lennox at his side.
"Crosshairs..." the young Autobot whispers, "Why are they here?"
He shakes his head, "I don't know."
"They're not going to attack, are they?" Says a nervous Sideswipe.
"It would be unwise. They are greatly outnumbered," Someone says behind him. Drift?
Ratchet turns to a Wrecker, as if there's something he's just realized and says, "Ping Red Alert. Now. Tell him to evacuate this base."
Crosshairs looks at him, "The frag? Why?"
He doesn't get an answer. He sees the CIA agents aim and hears the roaring of the black Cybertronian vehicle coming their way and hears William Lennox's yell only seconds before the explosions start.
"EVERYBODY RUN!"
As the memory fades Crosshairs hears a strange, strangled noise, not realizing it's coming out of him until he lifts his face from his holoform's hands. Lennox's scream echoes deep inside his mind. It's something he knows is going to haunt him time and time again.
Gritting his teeth and staring down angrily, Crosshairs whispers, "It wasn't us."
Ellie closes her eyes and lets the warm water wash away all of her worries and fears, even if only for a few minutes. Her mind mulls over her current situation involving a particular Autobot downstairs. She finds herself worrying over him more and more as she comes to terms with the fact that, yes, she has indeed taken in what the government has classified as one of the most dangerous creatures to walk the Earth. The very same creature she's seen cry, and puke, and tremble, and stare into oblivion after the terrors of DC. It's incredibly difficult to see him as anything but a traumatized soul who isn't near as hazardous as he's been described. Maybe that's why she took him in.
Others may look at Crosshairs and see him as highly dangerous. All she sees is but a broken soldier.
Sighing, Ellie finishes her shower and steps out, wrapping herself and her hair into fluffy towels. After drying her hair out and letting it down to drip dry, she walks out of her bathroom and into her bedroom -to see Crosshairs sitting on her bed.
"Oh!" Ellie squeaks and very nearly drops the only thing keeping her covered. While scrambling to readjust her towel she glowers at him, "Dear God, you scared me. How did you get in here so quietly? Why are you in here?"
Crosshairs looks up, entirely uninterested in her current attire -or the lack of it- and replies hesitantly, "I just needed to... talk..."
She supposes she shouldn't be surprised. Crosshairs isn't human and wouldn't fall victim to what a usual man would do or think while looking at her like this. That's her thought process, at least until he looks her over again and it slowly dawns on him the awkwardness of the situation. His eyes widen at fraction and he looks away, mumbling, "Oh, right..."
"Yeah, um," Ellie can feel the heat on her cheeks and knows she must look like a tomato. She holds her towel up with an iron grip, "I'd very much like to get dressed first before we... talk. Please."
Nodding wordlessly, Crosshairs stands up and moves to leave. He glances down at her once and Ellie has to swallow the nervous lump in her throat. Human or not, he's still a very large and very intimidating male who has breached into her room without any forewarning. Is privacy just not an existing thing for his kind? She has half a mind to blurt that thought out but quickly thinks better of it. It's not his fault.
She quickly throws on some clothes once Crosshairs exits her room. A white sweater and some simple blue jeans are the first things she grabs out of her dresser. She takes a few spare moments to brush out her wet hair before taking in a small breath and heading downstairs. Crosshairs's tall figure standing in the hallway stops her. He's leaning against the open doorframe of Charlie's room and examining the space quietly.
Ellie stands there awkwardly for a few moments, not wanting to startle him. She clears her throat to grab his attention, only to see the barest hint of a smirk form on his face, the first hint of a smile she's seen on him since he's been here, "I heard you."
Right, super alien hearing, Ellie muses. With quiet steps she sidles beside him, looking into her son's room before looking back at him, "You said you wanted to talk?"
He nods.
"What about?"
Crosshairs shifts his weight and crosses his arms. He takes in a breath as if what he wants to say is going to take a lot of strength. He mumbles, "I remember... what happened."
Ellie's brows rise, "Oh, yeah? What do you remember? If... you're willing to talk about it, of course."
He says nothing at first. Instead he enters Charlie's room, Ellie following behind with a mildly bewildered expression. She's not sure what he finds interesting about her son's room but she doesn't question it while Crosshairs is finally in a mood to speak. He sits down on the end of Charlie's little twin bed, complete with blue space-themed sheets. The irony isn't lost on Ellie.
"Charlie, yeah?" He asks, taking a look around.
Ellie nods. Crosshairs grunts and then clasps his hands together, "In N.E.S.T., there was this... young 'Bot. Followed me all the damn time, never could shut his mouth for the life of 'im. But... a good kid. Eager to learn. Wanted to do what I do."
"Sharpshooting, right? You're a... sniper?" Ellie asks. Crosshairs gives her a puzzled look but nods. She explains quickly, "The internet. I, uh, looked you up in the leaked N.E.S.T. files, remember?"
"Right..." He mutters. He fidgets with his hands and Ellie almost forgets that she's looking at an alien. She doesn't think he realizes how human he can make himself seem sometimes.
"I remember... the agents surroundin' the headquarters," he begins slowly, "They were threatenin' us. Don't remember why. I rembered us standin' our ground. Optimus was there. Lennox, too. Bunch of human soldiers were there. Other Autobots were there, around me. The kid... he was behind me. He was scared."
He pauses then and trails off. His head falls into his hands and he wipes his face. Ellie stands patiently and waits for him to gather the strength to keep going. She carefully walks over and sits on the bed beside him.
"They fired first," Crosshairs hissed through his teeth, "Lennox told everybody to run 'n they fired. Killed our soldiers. Destroyed our base..."
His voice grows so thick that he doesn't say anymore. He doesn't need to. Ellie watches him with a heavy heart and places a soft hand on his shoulder. Then she slides her arm around his back, pulling until he relents and she brings him into her embrace. In a time where he's been betrayed by humans, the least she can do is to remind him that they're not all the same. Crosshairs stays stiff for a long moment, undoubtedly lacking experience with such intimate human interaction. Then Ellie feels his arms wrap around her and suddenly she's almost crushed against his holoform's solid chest.
"They killed 'im," Crosshairs sobs into her shoulder, "They killed Bluestreak."
In this moment, Ellie realizes why he chose Charlie's room. His pain brings her to tears. She sees now, that he's lost everything. His home, his comrades, himself, and his own little Charlie.
"I'm so sorry," Ellie whispers. She holds him long after the tears have dried, and he hangs on as if she's his only life line left.
Perhaps, in some ways, she is.
Crosshairs refuses to look at himself.
Every time he does, he's driven back down into the abyss of his dark thoughts, of everything he's so desperately wished he can forget. It's only when he's in the presence of Ellie, he realizes, when he can fight away the pain and the trauma. Odd as the woman is, Crosshairs can't help but crave the feeling in his spark when she talks to him, touches him, sometimes even looks at him. She's been his only light in his darkness, his only sense of comfort ever since he's been tossed in and out of chaos.
Emotions don't mix well with him. They never have. In his vorns and vorns of existence Crosshairs genuinely cannot recall a time where he's allowed himself to be as internally shattered as he was in front of Ellie. If anyone were to tell his fellow Autobots that he'd cried they would consider it a load of slag. Crosshairs doesn't cry. He doesn't show weakness or vulnerability. Him, the sharpshooter who's always notably snarky, and rude, and cocky, and grumpy? It wasn't possible.
But as it would seem, even Crosshairs can change. Maybe it's the trauma. Maybe it's survivor's guilt. Whatever it is, it's taken everything Crosshairs was before and destroyed it, left behind with whatever is left of N.E.S.T.. It's what caused him to cling to a human woman with a bleeding heart and grieve for everything he's lost. To grieve for Bluestreak.
Crosshairs doesn't even realize he's reactivated his holoform until he blinks back into reality. He's sitting in his cab, human-like hands gripping his steering wheel with a tense grip. Clenching his jaw he climbs out of himself. He forces himself to look at his true form-what's left of the Crosshairs before DC.
He shakes his head. No, that Crosshairs is dead. It's time for him to change, inside and out.
Quickly finding a metal scraper after some searching, he brings it down against his door and drags. It hurts, causes him to grit his holoform's teeth, but he ignores the pain. He keeps going, all along his sides, over his hood, his bumpers, fenders, until there's no red or blue left, until there's no hint of who he was before.
Bluestreak smirks and treads after him, "You should change your paint sometime."
"Why's that?" Crosshairs grumbles, but there's no mistaking the slight quirk in his lip plates.
"Don't you get tired of being confused with Optimus?"
"That only happened once, kid."
"Well, still, the red and blue's due for something different, don't you think?" Bluestreak nudges him, "Maybe you should hit Sunstreaker up."
Crosshairs nudges back, a rare return of playfulness in the otherwise stoic sharpshooter. It's only Bluestreak who can bring it out of him. He rubs the back of the young Praxian's head, "I'll think about it, Blue."
Bluestreak grins, "You better, you grumpy old mech."
Poor Crosshairs, this mech has lost everything. He'll need some serious TLC. :(
Had to post this a day early since, again, I'm going to be super busy on Monday. I noticed that I have a bunch of silent readers, which I'm happy about. Even if you don't review, I hope you all are enjoying! The view count on this is insanely high for a story that's only just starting out. Thank you all!
As always though, reviews are appreciated and loved!
