Chapter IV: Mustang and Camaro

This just wasn't his day.

Owen had only barely managed to escape Mr. Abrams class when he dismissed the students. He blended in with the crowd and slipped out the door proceeding to run towards the exit of the school as many other students flooding out from the build were doing. All he had to do now was avoid Mr. Abrams for the rest of the day, it was a solid plan but the odds of falling off the teacher's radar completely were harder when you were over six foot four. Owen navigated his way through the small crowds spread across the schoolyard, to his disappointment most of them had taken the picnic tables. A gaggle of 'it' girls had made themselves comfortable at the picnic table under the large tree. "That's my spot," Owen mumbled to one in particular, shuffling off to look for another spot. He finally found one near the gate, an old abandoned picnic table covered in graffiti and dry chewing gum, Owen sat dejectedly on the top of the table with a heavy sigh. Swinging his backpack from around his arm and onto his lap, he reached into his bag grabbing the containing holding his Sandwich; He munched on his lunch without much enthusiasm. He scanned his environment until his eyes landed on a car parked in the middle of the street just across from where he sat.

Owen's eyebrows rose considerably at the body of the vehicle, it was an old Pontiac, a 1990's model at best given its sleek futuristic appearance. The body was smooth, flat and rounded --- not to mention the ugliest shade of royal-fuchsia he had ever seen. "Oh, shit ..." Owen choked on his sandwich at his absentminded notice of the vehicle's shade of color. Sliding off the picnic table he moved closer to the gate, the car's engine revved at his approach.

The woman driver, who could only be described as sultry in the traditional sense. Adorned in a leather bodysuit and sunglasses akin to The Matrix's Trinity, the woman turned to meet his curious gaze, she smiled and her face flickered. In that small window of time, Owen swore he saw the exact pair of eyes that had peered down at him before, only they were blue and not red. Owen could feel his lips open and close helplessly at the sight of the stoic woman's expression, terrible memories of a sharp object jabbing him in the stomach. Oh God, Oh God, oh God, oh Go--

"Hey, are you all right?" Someone asked. Owen whipped around in response, an expression of distress etched across his pallid face. Standing on the other side of the picnic table was the girl of everyman's dream, and Trent's girlfriend, Mikaela Banes. She wore a more modest assortment of clothing than what he was used to seeing her in. A brown oversized hoody, a fitting T-Shirt with the words 'Policy of Truth' written across the chest, loose fitting jeans and sneakers over her boots. Owen got a hold of his emotions immediately; he exhaled heavily with a nod. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," He uttered, turning back around. The Pontiac was gone, no a sign of its presence anywhere. Owen sighed again, releasing his anxieties. He moved over to the picnic table and hoisted himself back onto the top. Mikaela eyed the teen in front of her, as far as passing strangers go, Mikaela had never seen him around, which usually meant he was new to their school or someone who played hooky quite frequently. Mikaela had been looking for Sam when she spotted Owen at the end of the schoolyard, Her curiosity urged her to inspect his frenetic behavior. Extending her hand she offered the mellow boy a smile. "I'm Mikaela Banes," She told him, her fingers wiggling slightly. Owen looked down at his sandwich, which had fallen from his grasp somewhere between his vaulting off the table and approaching the gate, he then eyed Mikaela's hand. Removing himself from the table a second time Owen took her hand shook it firmly, noting how sweaty his palm felt against hers. "Owen Armstrong. Nice to meet you, I guess," He answered, without enthusiasm.

The pleasant glow on Mikaela's face dimmed, he didn't mean to come off as so uninterested -- okay, maybe he did, he just didn't expect her to notice -- so he smiled a little more. They let their hands fall away and stood in an awkward silence for a time. "Is that you car?" Mikaela inquired, pointing across the yard. Owen leaned forward and spotted his Mustang sitting across the street, he hadn't parked it there. He blinked in bewilderment. "Yeah, it is," He paused. "Mikaela, do you know anything about cars?" He inquired. Lame, Armstrong, lame. Mikaela shrugged. "Quite a lot. My dad was a mechanic," She answered smoothly, placing a hand on her hip. Owen found himself standing a little straighter at her response, his throat dried and his face burned. Years of unconscious conditioning had lead him to believe that girls like Mikaela Banes had no wisdom in cars, or anything else, whatsoever. To hear the opposite was a bit of a shock. "Uh, I own a Ford Mustang. 1967...Shelby Cobra," He stammered. Mikaela's smile widened. "I know, my dad owned one," She said, chuckling.

"Cool."

"Yes it was," She answered shortly, folding her arms across her chest. Where was Sam? They planned on eating lunch in yard in order to avoid a confrontation with a bitter Trent. Her eyes shifted to Owen, he was keeping himself occupied by fiddling his backpack strap. Biting the side of her mouth she reached forward and tapped him on the shoulder.

Owen looked up in question, hoisting his backpack up onto his shoulders. "Do you mind if I take a look at your car?" Mikaela's fingers intertwined as her spoke, she raised an eyebrow at his blank expression. "Sure, I don't mind. I've been having problems with it," Owen answered. Mikaela's eyebrows raised in mock-surprise. It wasn't unheard of for someone to buy to an old classic and were unable to keep proper maintenance and repair on it. "Yeah, for instance, I parked my car in front of the gate and now its over there across the street." That's not much of a problem, Mikaela thought as she shot the car a look, tempting it to move. The Mustang remained where it was unfortunately. "Are you sure? Maybe you just forgot you parked it there," She supplied. Owen shook his head saying that he would remember if he had parked his car elsewhere, he wasn't a careless person. You don't need to be careless to forget, Mikaela wanted to say. "Well -- maybe…"

"Mikaela! Hey! Mikaela!" Sam Witwicky's voice startled the girl out of her thoughts. Mikaela beamed at the sight of her approaching boyfriend, Miles conveniently absent from his side. Sam kidded to a halt nearly tumbling into Mikaela. Owen watched the scene with utter confusion, unsure he should even be present for this display of dormant affection between the two. "I'm so sorry I'm late, -- I got stuck in the principle's office," Sam breathed, leaning into a kiss. Again? Owen thought bewildered. Mikaela smiled against his lips wrapping her arms around his neck, a loud cough broke the kiss. Sam's eyes averted upward and stared wide eyed at the sight of Owen Armstrong. "Oh, um --- hey there," Sam stammered, scratching the back of his neck. Owen pointed a finger at Mikaela in question. "Weren't you dating Trent?" He inquired. Mikaela rolled her eyes, she would've figured by now that the public blow-off she gave to Trent would've given someone the ideal that she had broken up with the dunderhead. Apparently, the message was not so well received by the public. "We broke up. Sam's my boyfriend now," Mikaela supplied in a tight voice. Sam nodded in affirmative, wrapping an arm around her waist in a protective manner. Owen blushed in embarrassment, he moved past the couple desperate to escape the awkward situation. Sam watched his retreating back in question before looking to Mikaela for an explanation. "I kinda just found him over here and started talking with him. Said his car was acting weird," Mikaela said.

"His car was acting weird? You sure that wasn't a pick up line?" Sam inquired jokingly. Mikaela unwrapped her arms from his neck and pointed to the car sitting across the street. "His car is the Mustang sitting across the street," She said. "He was a more than a little preoccupied with it, I don't think he was that interested in me." Sam shrugged his shoulders in half-agreement, doubting Owen didn't take the time to awe at the simplistic beauty that was Mikaela Banes. The kid would have to be blind or a eunuch if he didn't find Mikaela attractive. "Anyhow, I told him I would look at his car. It'll have to be after school, I wanna have lunch," Mikaela stated. "You got the box?" Sam smiled and raised the carry-out box for her to see, Mikaela grinned delighted by the smell of food. Mikaela and Sam rushed across the yard, their eyes set on the vacant table near the gate.

Hot Rod sat across the street from where Owen originally parked him and watched with great amusement as the teenager stand flabbergasted at the sight of Arcee as she taunted him. She sought the unnerve the boy, a sure way to get back at Hot Rod for impeding on her search for her commander, Bumblebee, for so long. Given that they were still being hunted by the likes of Thundercracker, and Dropkick, months after the incident in Mission City, Hot Rod was careful to keep a low profile. Both of them landed just year ahead of Optimus and the others and after making sure Owen would survive his encounter with Bonecrusher, they began a widespread search for the All Spark knowing Bumblebee was most likely doing the same. Arcee was reluctant in leaving Nevada, especially if her commander was in the general area. Hot Rod was quick to remind her of their goal. Finding the All Spark before the Decepticons was their top priority, reuniting Bumblebee would have to wait. They went their separate ways, Hot Rod covered most of states in the North and Arcee took the South. When the blackout had struck, the two Autobots were attacked by other Decepticons in hiding ---- they were careless in masking their spark signatures. In Canada, Hot Rod was unfortunate enough to attacked by Dropkick, in the guise of a M2 Bradley IFV, and nearly damaged him beyond repair with the seemingly limitless firepower at his disposal. Hot Rod was forced to retreat when the battle became too intense, nearly spilling out beyond the Army's designated area, straight into the civilian cities. Meanwhile, Arcee dealt with Thundercracker, an F-22 Raptor, and Swindle, a Chevrolet Cobalt SS, in South America. They attacked a military base in Brazil to draw of her out of hiding, under the suspicion that she had found the location of the All Spark. Her discovery turned out be a trap set by the mysterious human faction, Sector 7.

Her adversaries were kinder to her as they were all attacked by the South American military the moment they revealed themselves. Arcee dealt Swindle a killing blow via through his damaged chestplate, one blast from a accurately aimed cannon did the Decepticon in. Arcee was quick to retreat the facility before the approaching Sector 7 could apprehend her. Thundercracker did the same. The Autobot duo reunited in Nevada where they went into hiding until contact with Optimus Prime was possible. It wasn't until two weeks ago that Hot Rod picked up the message Optimus was sending to their comrades in space. Arcee was ecstatic and he was relieved, yet disappointed upon learning the fate of the All Spark.

Presently though, Hot Rod was simply waiting for the right opportunity to reveal himself to Owen, just imagining the situation was troubling. "Arcee, leave him alone," Hot Rod called warily. Arcee wasn't given the chance to respond, a female came up obviously noticing Owen's strange behavior. "Hey, are you alright?" Her voice came over his frequency loud and clear. Arcee cruised past him just as Owen turned in response. "You shouldn't bother him like that," Hot Rod chided. If Arcee could roll her eyes she would've, her engine revved in response. "I wasn't bothering intentionally. Just checking the status of his health," Arcee responded coolly. "He still behaves erratically even after a standard year. Mental rehabilitation doesn't seem to be working." Hot Rod harrumphed keeping his scanners focused on the jumpy teenager. "Humans are fragile apparently. Its takes much longer, mentally, to recover from traumatic occurrences as opposed to …. us," Hot Rod mused tentatively.

Arcee nodded in mild agreement, she knew their kind were not immune to what humans called 'Post Traumatic Stress', but given Owen's youth he should've recovered much quicker than most. "Perhaps," Arcee retorted flatly. "Though it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to say your presence unnerves him." Hot Rod was careful to keep his engine at the Autobot's observation, remembering how Owen was hesitant to even ride in his car, after finding out it had been seemingly repaired and brought back from the dead. "No way! Owen doesn't notice anything!" He assured her. Arcee watched Owen interact awkwardly with the slim brunette girl a little while longer before turning her attention back to Hot Rod. "If our friend doesn't notice anything, then why does inspect his car like a man waiting for a trap to spring? He eyes our Insignia constantly, caressing it like he knows…"

"Arcee, I promise you, Owen doesn't know I'm not his car," Hot Rod nearly growled. Arcee huffed in response and fell silent. Rodimus welcomed the silence and let his attention drift back to Owen. Arcee sighed dejectedly as she drove away in reverse and parked somewhere out of sight. Being unable to search for her commander was really starting to get to her, but there was little she could do; they had to be careful about how they went about revealing their presence to the Autobots. The Decepticons were hunting them still and attracting attention to a populated area would do them (or the humans) no good. In addition to the fact that the thickheaded Hot Rod had pointed it out infuriated her.

Rodimus was known among his elder peers as cockier version of his mentor, Kup, in his youth, especially his first couple hundred years. "An absolute terror," Jazz grumbled once recounting an embarrassing collision with the younger Transformer. Arcee, just a year younger than him, was friends with him and another fellow Autobot, Springer (the eldest of the two). Bumblebee, a year younger than Springer and two years older than Rodimus, was always partial to associating with Hot Rod given his tendency to act before thinking and thus, always creating calamity. Something that never set well with High Lord Protector Megatron ---- the one person aside from Ultra Magnus that couldn't tolerate him. Hot Rod was barely over two hundred years old when the war broke out between the 'Autobot' loyalists and 'Decepticon' separatists. They spent the rest of their lives engaged in warfare with Megatron and his followers, yet it never seemed to take he edge off his Hot Rod's high-spirits or reckless behavior. If anything, it intensified. One example would be The Battle of SimFur. He had been assigned to his commanding officer, Kup, Capt. Ultra Magnus, and Lt. Hardhead.

The four had been separated from the rest of their team and pinned down by Decepticon fire, in the jagged canyons miles from their base of operations. Hot Rod, burning with desire to prove himself to his superiors, and like the thickheaded 'bot he was, ran out into a barrage of fire from Barricade and Devastator. The damage he took on was minor compared to the explosion he created when he fired straight into a pocket of Energon. Barricade and Devastator survived, Cybertron had a new addition to its canyon, and Hot Rod earned a month in the med-bay for his troubles. "It was dumbest thing Rodimus had ever done, but it saved our lives," She remembered Magnus telling her when she came to check up on him. Bumblebee believed that Hot Rod's reckless behavior stemmed from a lack of self-worth, the constant need to prove himself to the others that he was not as he always appeared on the surface. Springer chalked it up to a need for attention and Arcee had no opinion other than he was stupid for taking such chances with his Spark.

Optimus was less than pleased with the outcome of their reconnaissance mission, but never got the chance to lecture the young 'bot on his recklessness; He was called away on a mission that required his direction attention. Hot Rod recovered, with only a scar that extended vertically past his left optic as a semblance of what he done and was placed back on active duty. Like many of the Autobots, Hot Rod was sent on yet another mission with his team to hold back the ever-rising forces of Megatron's army. This time they were to enter Decepticon territory in order to infiltrate their base. Rodimus and Hardhead had been sent to ascertain the best route around their security defenses when Megatron ambushed them, along with the likes of Scorponok, Thundercracker, and Dropkick. "Apparently we were expected…" She remembered Hot Rod saying. Hardhead had them double back to where Kup and the others were waiting. They made halfway there when Megatron cut off their retreat. The Decepticons converged, the two locked in a furious battle -- three against two for sometime before Kup and the rest of squadron found them. It was in that moment that the tables turned in favor of Megatron. The rest of his militia emerged from hiding and like clockwork, Kup's squad was nearly demolished. Wheeljack and Depthcharge were the first to be killed, taken out by a burrowing Scorponok, the fourth Decepticon that went unaccounted for. Arcee remembered Hot Rod telling her that he went after Megatron, against Ultra Magnus' direct orders not to engage in any battle with the ruthless Transformer. Hot Rod held his own against the towering tyrant, though just barely, before he was literally blown across the battlefield by a blast from Megatron's fusion cannon. The attack rendered Hot Rod's systems useless. Left immobilized and unable to defend himself against Megatron's next attack, Hot Rod awaited the end. As another volley from Megatron's cannon fired, Hardhead stepped in the way of the blast. His chestplate was obliterated, his Spark extinguished almost immediately ---- Hardhead was dead.

Cliffjumper, Depthcharge, and Bluestreak were also among the comrades lost that day. They were the only surviving members of their squadron left. Ultra Magnus, Red Alert, and Kup sustained minor injuries and Hot Rod once again had the privilege of spending two weeks in the Medical Wing, under the care of both Ratchet and Red Alert. "Poor kid was devastated. Hardhead took a shot straight to the chest. Died saving him," Springer recounted. Optimus returned with news that would turn the tide of their seemingly endless battle with the Decepticons. A way to keep the All Spark out of the hands of the Megatron for good.

However, it would be at the cost the planet and it would take every Autobot among them to do it, even if they weren't aware of it. Only a selective few were let in on Optimus' plan; Arcee and Bumblebee were two of the four. Arcee gotten wind of Rodimus' release from Ratchet and Red Alert's care she went to inform him of Optimus' plan, only to find that the young bot had disappeared.

No one knew where he had gone and she had very limited time to search for him. Before long, she and Bumblebee's team, along with others were sent to stop the incursion accumulating at Tyger Pax. Optimus, Ironhide, and Jazz hid the All Spark, their contingency plan ready to be set in motion incase it was discovered. Bumblebee and another defended its position, withstanding torture from Swindle until Megatron's arrival. The All Spark was launched into space, out of Megatron's grasp and Bumblebee paid a high price for it. Upon retrieving their fallen comrade, the thought of Hot Rod turning tail and deserting them only made her angrier. If the hotheaded Autobot had been there, Bumblebee's torture would've been lesser.

Despite this, Arcee searched for Hot Rod in between her free time whenever she was not visiting Bumblebee in the Medical wing. It felt strange to her that no one, especially Optimus, seemed to notice his absence. When Bumblebee recovered from his injuries, he set off after Megatron to retrieve the All Spark. Three months after the battle of Tyger Pax, Megatron and Bumblebee's departures, Arcee found Hot Rod atop the observation tower of their base, brooding. "Where have you been? You deserted us in our darkest hour!" Arcee snapped, making her presence known to Hot Rod. Rodimus did not rebuke with the usual come back, instead he shrugged his shoulders and replied, "I'm sorry, I needed some time to myself."

Arcee was more than tempted to push the issue further, especially given that his disappearance could have be seen as desertion, but the look of utter defeat in his optics stopped her. The fact that he felt responsible for Hardhead's death had yet to occur to her and so she simply left him alone. As time went on, the battles grew more intense and the planet's seemingly slow deterioration appeared to accelerate in turn. Both factions now had to worry about electrical storms and earthquakes so terrible that it brought up the magma that flowed beneath their feet. Hot Rod was promoted to Lieutenant soon after being placed back on active duty. Thus, his perchance for taking risks was less and less. He lead his squad of Autobots into battles as Kup had taught him. They won battles under his careful planning, yet it did nothing to turn the tide. Whoever the tactical genius was, it wasn't Hot Rod. Without a leader, the Decepticon attacks were sloppy, yet lost none of their potency under the command of Barricade and Starscream. However, Optimus began to realize that their war was becoming a pointless endeavor with their home planet crumbling around them. Communication with Bumblebee was brief and so far, he had no luck in his search. Thus, in a last ditch effort, Optimus and his remaining comrades, along with the Decepticons, ventured from their home to aid in the search for the All Spark.

Arcee traveled with Springer for a time before going her separate way, but as luck would have it, she ended up on a water planet where Rodimus was currently spending his time in prison for insulting the Overlord's -- a highly respected Quintesson Judge as it were--- tentacles. Arcee helped him escape and two have been traveling together since then. Since their departure from Cybertron, Hot Rod's character seemed to change completely, and she felt like she had taken his role of the hotheaded bot in some strange way due to her impatience with him and their situation.

Hot Rod was certainly more reserved and hesitant in his decisions, she had chalked it up to discretion stemming from exploring a new world, but Hot Rod was never known for restraining himself on un-traveled road. Other changes she had noticed was his perchance to ponder over the stars for hours on end, and when he wasn't brooding, he roamed the city for hours until morning. Arcee, however, never really considered what had happened earlier on Cybertron as an attributing factor to his change in temperament, until now. Arcee pulled herself from her thoughts when Rodimus engine revved.

"What?" She inquired, dazed.

"Were you even listening to me?" Hot Rod asked incredulously.

"No. What did you say?" Arcee answered, knowing denying the truth would lead into an argument.

"I heard Owen say to his mother that he thinks our symbols are custom made details added when his car was repaired," The laughter in Rodimus' voice was unmistakable. Arcee rolled her eyes in irritation. When the Decepticons were out of proper range, Rodimus and Arcee had approached the car with caution. The boy was a terrible sight behold hanging upside down in his vehicle, leaking lubricant from every part of his body. Arcee was gentle with his body as she cut him loose from the car. Owen was limp in her hand, his left arm hung at an odd angle and she feared she had damaged him. Hot Rod grabbed the vehicle up from the ground and the two began to formulate a plan as they raced across the desert terrain like ghosts. Once inside of the busy city, they slipped through the shadows of buildings and alleyways never stopping once until they reached the hospital. It was there that Arcee's plan came to life.

Hot Rod would pose as the damaged car long enough to get Owen medical attention and then flee before the humans could ascertain him. Arcee scanned a nearby vehicle in the parking lot whilst Hot Rod reluctantly scanned the damaged vehicle, omitting the damage with an overall assessment of the vehicle's frame before the accident. Arcee then proceeded to place all of Owen's undamaged belongings into Hot Rod before placing the boy himself into the back seat. Shutting his door unnecessarily hard, Hot Rod pulled out of their hiding place and went speeding towards the entrance of the hospital.

The Autobot demolished their fragile doors and parked himself at the front desk. It wasn't apart of Arcee's plan but it got their attention well enough. Once the humans recovered from their shock, they piled around Hot Rod and discovered the injured child. Pulling him out of the car, the doctors began to prep Owen for treatment. They were so busy with tending with the boy, now lying on a gurney that they barely paid attention to the fact that the driverless vehicle sped out of the hospital, tires squealing. Arcee followed Rodimus on a different route, to ensure that no one could connect her vehicle mode with the '67 Mustang.

Afterward, Hot Rod sought out a better form to scan. He came across the same vehicle, of the same year and model, but this time it was red. The color change appealed to Rodimus, scanning the model into his interface, he simply camouflaged the frame in its original blue. Owen had yet to notice a difference in his 'car' and Hot Rod was more than willing to keep it that way for now. "So aside from the symbols, he doesn't suspect a thing?" Arcee inquired carefully. "Nope. Not a thing," Hot Rod assured his comrade. Arcee sighed with relief.

(TBC)