Fun fact: Last chapter of Hybrid Theory.
Word count: 3,101
Chapter 12
"Pushing Me Away"
"Who's 'them?'" Prowl leaned forward, his face straightened, "Are there people bothering you at school?"
Ree shook her head. Megatron stood behind the two, examining the back of their heads. His red eyes flicked over to her dangerously, piercing into her sanity, "Silence."
Keep quiet? Got it, she thickly swallowed.
Ratchet eyed the space next to him without turning his head, seeming to scan for any presence near him. The officer did the same, subtly. They were both clueless. He turned back to Ree, looping his thumbs through his belt loop, "You need to tell us. We can help you."
Again, she shook her head. No, they can't.
"Ree," Prowl stated firmly, softening his voice when he continued, "Please."
"We'll just get Sam to tell us if you want. It'll make things easier for yourself if you talk," the doctor standing in front of her shifted in his stance, ready to make the trip upstairs to Sam's room.
Under the stress of them watching, a tear fell out of her eye. Ree automatically turned away, burying her face in her hands, sweeping up her forehead and over her hair, breathing out as her mouth twisted into that of upset. She couldn't handle this. These two were like strangers to her, she didn't know them yet they know so much of her, except her darkest secret of the spirits.
How did Sam even know? Did she tell him? She was such an idiot! What was she thinking!
A sob escaped her lips at her internal scolding, scrunching her shoulders, curling in on herself and returning her face to her hands. Megatron remained silent at the self destruction in her mind, even going as far as pushing away some dark thoughts she dare not look back into.
Blackout frowned, kneeling in front of her, trying to grab her attention before speaking, "You need to calm down, you're going to glitch-" he quickly cleared his throat, fixing his mistake without so much as taking another breath, "You'll pass out, and could rupture something."
"No," she whimpered, to who, she did not know. The girl wasn't thinking straight and no longer knew where she was besides the dark parts of her insane mental state. She didn't want help. Ree didn't want anything, but that's not how the world works. Regardless of what she wanted, someone would try to help her.
She wanted... what was the first spirit's name? He was quickly fading from her memory.
Closing her hands over her ears with a new found panic to ignore all the voices, Ree sunk to the floor, her voice small as she whined, "No, no, no. ...No, no, no, no!" Her fingers curled into her hair, ruffling the short strands as her mind tore itself apart, "Leave me alone!"
It was not something she wanted to do; break down in front of two men she didn't know, reveal her weaknesses and submit her already vulnerable self to the dominating spirits.
Angst soon turned into fury as she angrily swiped at the tears trailing down her cheeks and stood, ensuring her back was still turned to the doctor and policeman, not wanting to face them as she repated, granted very quietly, "Leave me alone."
"Ree, we want to help," Ratchet stated as softly as his gruff voice could go. He sighed, muttering to Prowl, "If only Smokescreen were here to help her."
"I don't need help!" Ree swiveled around, anger bursting through what little control she had. Normally, she was a patient person. But recently she's been under too much stress to even bother with the like. Her conflicting emotions were keeping her from thinking straight, that she knew. Deep down under all the insanity and anger.
She wanted to push away that calm face of Blackout, he was just staring at her, waiting for her to think reasonably.
No! She would not! She refused. He could try all he wanted, but him and his lackeys were the cause of this entire mess. Even if they couldn't control it. She hated them for hanging around. Hating Megatron for his molestation, his controlling demeanor, that smug face. She wanted them to go away. They're the problem.
Maybe she did need help. Ree slowly turned, glancing at the two men behind her through her peripheral vision, would they be able to help?
Her eye caught Megatron's, then returned without a second thought to Prowl and Ratchet, "Can you help me?"
"We don't know the cause," Ratchet stepped forward, "If you tell us the problem, we can try our best to help you. We can even set you up with a new psychiatrist if you want."
"I just want it to stop," Ree looked down, fiddling with her hands.
Prowl eyed her, observing her behavior with critical eyes, "What is it?"
"Them," she whispered, looking at Blackout, who was still knelt in front of her. To them, it must appear as though she were staring off in space. The voices, she wanted to say. But held it in, sucking in a sharp breath.
She stared at the spirit dead in the eye, daring him and his pretty leader to make a move. She wanted them gone. She wanted to forget about them. For once, Ree thanked having memory loss, even if it meant forgetting the first spirit. He was kind, right?
She couldn't remember, and it was best not to. If it means sending these spirits away, she'd do anything.
Ree knew she'd regret her boldness later if the dangerous glint in Megatron's eyes were anything to go by. She would pay for threatening, but for now, she wanted a way out. She didn't care what he thought. Didn't care what any of them thought, even as over the days, they tried to be their own version of nice.
It wouldn't work. For as long as they were around, she would hate them.
Ree turned to the two living men, opening her mouth to speak but couldn't. No voice came out. What was she supposed to say without sounding crazy? Oh fuck it, she already was. Closing her mouth and swallowing the saliva that gathered in it, she started, slowly with much hesitance, "I... see s-"
"Ree?" Sam came down, creaking some stairs with heavy feet. His form appeared, leaned on the rail when he spotted the ones standing in his living room with the girl, "What's going on? What happened?''
His eyes flicked back and forth between the three, he was wearing his usual home attire with slightly disheveled hair. He was probably lying in bed before coming down.
"I believe there is something seriously wrong with your cousin, Sam," Ree frowned at those deadpanned words, what did they think of her? That she was just peachy after the events of Mission, losing her parents and then not remembering all of that? Incapable of recalling and having to read journals and listen to voice recordings from her past selves? What about that would leave her without problems?
"Yeah, I saw her cutting the other night," he slowly jabbed his thumb behind his shoulder pointing back upstairs, "Is it really that bad, the voices?"
He turned his gaze to Ree halfway through his sentence, looking for some sort of answer from anybody.
No response was supplied for a long while as they stared at Sam, Ree occasionally wiping at her damp eyes, her arms wrapped around herself and face settled in a pout.
"Did she tell you about these 'voices?'" Prowl looked to Sam after sparing a glance to Ree. The boy nodded.
"What can we do?" Sam stepped off the last two stairs, his hand still lingering on the wooden rail.
Ratchet sent him a pointed look, "You can go find your parents and tell them we'll have Smokescreen as a psychiatrist from now on."
Ree's cousin sighed, puffing out his cheeks with the exhale, he made his way to the backyard where his parents are usually at during the day.
The girl watched him out, trying to occupy herself from the staring eyes of the other two in the room. She didn't want to talk anymore, but she didn't want to say that. She didn't want to offend or run away. Was this her only chance?
Was this a one time thing to get help?
They were already switching her psychiatrist, this couldn't be the only time. They seemed determined to help her, and if their familiar behavior was anything to go by, she'd say they've tried to help before.
Her mind had since calmed down and began to think logically again, she could understand them and wanted them to care. She was alone, but a feeling that she didn't have to be encompassed her.
They were willing to try and believe her. But she couldn't downright say she saw spirits, the Decepticons, deceased from a war.
But who was this "Smokescreen?" He was another psychiatrist that would be a repeat of Dr. Harold - very ineffective - or would he actually be able to help her? Was he qualified? She did not know here, and barely knew these two.
Where did they even come from? Were they family friends? They seemed to be people that could be trusted. She didn't doubt their skill, but why waste so much time on her? What was so special about her?
What would happen, if she agreed to switch psychiatrists? Would it be better for her?
"Who's 'Smokescreen?'" She ignored the spirits, who shifted in her vision.
Prowl stood straighter, tilting his chin up in a look of authority, "Smokescreen is my brother, and an excellent specialist in mental health."
"Will I get more medication?" Ree frowned, she was off her current medicine and did not want to continue to take them.
"We'll leave that up to him. It depends on what exactly he finds. He might prescribe some, if he sees fit. But for the most part, he will serve as a therapist," Prowl led her outside, a hand hovering behind her lower back, "He's friendly, and knows what he's doing."
They stepped outside, heading towards the fluorescent yellow ambulance parked along the curb. It was a wonder why they weren't attracting attention. Or maybe it was because they came by so often, the neighborhood became used to it.
Ratchet opened the back to the emergency vehicle, and she climbed in silently. Ree didn't want to talk anymore. She didn't want to acknowledge the cuts, or the spirits, or her voice.
Dread twisted her stomach, she knew she was in trouble with the leader of the Decepticons. She avoided looking at where he stood, just outside the vehicle, in the shade of a nearby tree. She knew he was burning a hole in her head.
She knew there was hell to pay later.
And he knew she knew, they could all hear her thoughts. It made her highly uncomfortable. It was an invasion of privacy.
The doctor sat her down on the stretcher inside, turning away to grab a few materials. He set them down next to her one by one, and then carefully pulled up her sleeves, "Did you wrap them yourself?"
She silently nodded, watching with an irritated look.
He carefully began unwrapping her ruined bandages, the one on her palm especially gross. It was yellow. The rest was spotted with dried, and some fresh, blood.
Sighing, Ratchet threw away the old bandages and fixed her up with new ones. He cleaned out the cuts, stitched up her palm and wrapped them.
Ree watched him as he did so, unfazed by the blood and cuts.
Prowl stood just outside the ambulance, hand rested on the open door. He looked disturbed.
Megatron watched her with a critical eye. It was hard to believe he wasn't human; that he was a giant robotic being.
Whether or not he had an actual sexual attraction to her was a mystery. She didn't know if h even had sexual feelings as a robot, but he definitely knew how to use it against her. Those nights he'd haunt her dreams, making them nightmares.
Ree was afraid to sleep, and afraid to be awake. He was everywhere.
He knew her weaknesses, her thoughts, what made her submiss. He knew how to bring her down and do what he says. To emotionally and mentally abuse her.
A feeling of hopelessness washed over her. She couldn't escape him. She wouldn't. Because while she could run, she couldn't hide. He will find her. And break her.
She didn't dare test his ability to do so; his strength. He's proven himself enough.
Even the others didn't dare touch her in possible fear of their leader's anger. He was possessive over her, and would tear anybody apart should they touch what's his.
Ree frowned at the spirit, he normally gave her hell, but she was positive he had a punishment in store for her. What was she to do?
She couldn't help the fear that overtook her in that moment. Humans make rash decisions under pressure, she was no different.
The girl turned her attention to her hand, back into the real world. It sounded much quieter when she wasn't lost in her thoughts; the voices were loudest when she was disconnected from reality.
No words were exchanged between the three. Ratchet worked until there was nothing more to do, and they stood there. Pondering.
It was a comfortable silence at first, then it drew out too long. The voices were coming back. She didn't want them. She glanced minutely at Megatron, whose dangerous red gaze was still set on her, his expression eerily blank.
"Ree," Prowl called, gesturing her over. She stood from the stretcher and walked to the ledge, allowing him to help her down. Her arm ached. "I want you to be able to visit Smokescreen every Saturday, as you usually did with your previous psychiatrist."
The girl nodded, standing close to him to shield herself from the Decepticon leader's eyes.
"Let's go for a quick walk," he offered, "It's a nice day."
She nodded again, standing beside him as he led her down the sidewalk. It was late in the afternoon, the sun indistinguishable from the sheet of clouds covering the sky, but it was surely late in the afternoon.
None of the spirits followed her as they made their way through the neighborhood.
Ree enjoyed the sounds of the birds, and the gentle breeze that brushed up against her. It was slightly humid out.
Their feet carried them through town, they passed by stores and cafés. No words were said, even as Ree stopped at one of the last cafés, the smell of their food and drinks making her crave what they had.
Prowl knew eventually she'd want something, and opened the door for her. They stepped inside the small café. It was a very stereotypical, quaint café and Ree couldn't find herself to dislike it. In fact, she loved the odd sense of familiarity it gave her.
The police officer bought himself a coffee, and her a hot chocolate upon request. She wasn't in the mood to eat yet, but definitely wanted some good hot cocoa.
They took a seat at one of the booths, sipping their drinks at their leisure. They were in no rush.
After hanging around the café for a bit, enjoying the delicious smells of it until the they disappeared, the two walked out and continued on their aimless path. Or so it seemed aimless, Ree couldn't tell if Prowl was bringing her anywhere in particular.
The sky became a tad bit darker, whether it be from the lowering sun or thicker clouds, and they approached a lake. There was nobody around but them, making the place even more peaceful.
They went along the grass, coming short of stepping on the wet sand. The breeze was pushing the water onto the sands in miniature waves, creating small noises.
It was beautiful out here, Ree loved it. Prowl somehow knew she did, and she appreciated that.
At the far end of the lake, facing Tranquility, sat a lone dark figure that Ree hadn't noticed before. She could have sworn nobody was around.
The girl slowed her pace, seeming hesitant to continue. But Prowl had no fault in his step, until he noticed the slight decrease in her speed. Did he not see the person?
Ree couldn't make out who it was, but she knew he was male. They continued to approach him. Did Prowl know him? Was she meeting somebody new? Or did he just not see him?
They were soon very close to the figure, and Ree could see the features of the man. He was dark-skinned and had long dreads. His blue eyes were trained on the water, sitting on the very edge of the dry grass before it turned to sand.
She knew him. She's definitely seen him before, and heard of him. In her journals, she wrote about a man just like this.
Jazz, she stopped, staring at the spot he was sitting at. Prowl stood behind her, curious of what she was staring at.
"Do you want to sit here?" He offered.
The girl nodded slowly, settling down next to the spirit only she could see. He finally turned his head to look at her, a sad look in his eyes.
"Been a bit," he started, but didn't continue. His gaze was already back on the water.
She blinked at him, then turned her attention to the lake. The trees were reflected against the gray lake, the clouds were darker as time went on.
When she stole a glance at Jazz, she saw him eyeing Prowl with a look of recognition. He knew him.
Ree didn't question it. It was a small world to her, and it was none of her business. If they knew each other, great. Maybe then she has mor connections to the officer than she thougt.
So the three of them sat there in silence, enjoying the small waves of the lake.
