there's a million&one ways
A/N: wow, I can't believe over a year ago I posted this! Where has all that time gone? I really should update more often.
Dedications: I would really like to thank all the dedicated readers, reviewers, and anyone who has faved this story or put it on their story alerts. Without your comments or e-mails, I don't know if this story would've evolved to be anything other than a little plot bunny or a "what if" thought if it weren't for your support. 3 I really enjoy hearing from all of you and your opinions about the characters and recent events in the story. So a big thank you to all of you for putting up with my lack of updates, typos, and general complicated story-line. Give yourselves a pat on the back. You deserve it! Well you deserve more than a pat on your back.
:lays out chocolate cake: enjoy! :D
Pairings: Annabelle Lennox w/ Starscream vs. Annabelle Lennox w/ Ironhide
Disclaimer: I do not own transformers © Hasbro.
He pressed his back against the wall, wishing he wasn't hearing the conversation in the room on the other side of the wall. The autobot couldn't understand how they could talk about her like she was a thing. Hearing their voices was slowly eating away at his patience. Galloway's voice triggered his cannons to hum. He could feel the heat of his canon's power radiated dangerously. Without so much as a command, they slid down his arms and onto his forearms. Ironhide's blue optics burned unnaturally white as the yelling vibrated in his audio sensors again. He took a deep breath to cool his temper, but the air only added to the flame growing inside of his spark. The mech eyed the wall, trying to picture where Galloway would be standing in the room.
"It's the damn government's fault!" Sarah shouted. "If they had kept closer tabs on the autobots, then none of this would have happened! That's damn truck never would've corrupted our daughter, Will!"
Will was silent, unresponsive. Ironhide couldn't bring himself to blame Will. As the father of Annabelle, he had every right to not respond. The fact that Will wasn't responding, made him hopeful that he was too scared to argue with Sarah; however, he couldn't hold back his anger towards Will. Will, the same person he had fought beside and protected for over a decade, didn't come to his defense, he felt deep pain his spark. 'Betrayed,' muttered a mistrustful voice inside his head. 'Instead of Chromia being the victim, you are.'
Ratchet peeped from around the corner to see his old comrade struggling to hold back his rage. "I thought I'd find you here, Ironhide," the medic spoke. The black mech flicked his optics towards the medic just to acknowledge his presence. "You're very predictable like that." He took a deep breath while folding his arms across his chest. Ratchet flinched as Galloway began to ramble on again. "Haven't you had enough of listening to these fools?" he asked.
"The only fool here is you," Ironhide growled.
"Me?" Ratchet asked, bewildered. "I don't understand what you are talking about, Ironhide."
He turned his glare towards Ratchet, unleashing his hate onto the medic. "You were the one that said leaving Annabelle would be a good thing. You told me by ending our relationship, that she would live a better, healthier life," Ironhide snarled unfriendly. "You made me believe that she would go on to live a normal life like Sam. And you informed me with your matter-of-fact, I-know-better-than-you voice that it was the right thing to do; that we were unhealthy for her!" He pointed a finger towards the wall. "How can you say that that in there is healthy for her? How can being surrounded by ignorant slags and unhappily married parents be good for her? I would like an answer, Ratchet, as to what logic you used to justify separating Annabelle from us." He threateningly stepped forward. "Because as far as I see it, it was the worst thing we could've done."
The mech spat into Ratchet's face, and the yellow autobot used his large hands to wipe away the lubricant. "Perhaps it has escaped your notice, but being around us has skewed her logic. She prefers our company over her own species. That's not normal," he argued bitterly. "She shouldn't be courting a Cybertronian. It's reinforcing bad behavior. You should know that, Ironhide. They are still a young species and don't realize the consequences of their actions nor do they see the harm that they are doing to themselves. You should've stepped in, been the bigger person, and ended that relationship before it went that far."
"You are just like a politician, Ratchet," Ironhide sneered. "You're such a hypocrite that it's enough to gag my spark. I recalled a time when you sided with Prime and wanted Sam to be our ambassador, but he refused. Sam wanted nothing to do with us. For Primus' sake, he wanted to get rid of Bumblebee. I remember how disappointed you and Prime were when he declined. But then we have Anna who comes along, wants to be part of our society, learn our ways, and trusts us completely; and the only thing you can think is how this is bad. She's the perfect ambassador for us and you dismiss her as a fluke, an anomaly. When in fact she was probably the best damn thing to happen to us!" He cornered Ratchet against the wall. The mech breathed onto the medic's face; only a faint sliver of control was holding back his violence.
"What she did wasn't insane," the black mech continued to shout. "She did it to protect us, and to prove to us that she can not only handle herself but that we can trust her. She's the only human who would die for us, Ratchet. She considers us her family, but there are those like you who don't want to accept her as family. You're afraid of her because she's a human, but if you opened your closed optics, then you'd see that she's not like other humans – she's one of us. She belongs among us. And as far as I'm concerned, she is one of us."
Ratchet stared blankly at the soldier. He couldn't wrap his mind around what his comrade was saying. He slowly shook his head, chuckling nervously at Ironhide's close proximity. "You've really allowed yourself to go overboard with this obsession for Annabelle. You've obviously blown a logic chip if you believe that a human can be one of us. She is a human, Ironhide, primitive and unpredictable. She would leave you in a heart beat for a suitable mate." He opened his mouth, but stopped himself before the words leaked into the air. He was hesitant because of where this conversation was heading.
The medic took a deep breath, convincing himself it would be the only way to knock common sense into Ironhide. "She is not Chromia, Ironhide. She may act like her, but she will never be Chromia." Ironhide's optics flinched at the sound of her name in such an angry voice. "I'm sorry that you lost your sister and never got to make her your bond-mate. I really am, but you need to realize you aren't the only one to lose someone close to you; and you need to realize that Annabelle will never take Chromia's place in your spark. She simply doesn't have the capacity to fill that kind of gap … no one does."
He didn't see Ironhide's hands grasp his neck, only felt the critical pressure they applied to the delicate wires. "Ironhide!" he croaked.
"No," Ironhide snarled. "For too long I've been quiet, taking your orders, and fulfilling them like I'm some dog. Now it's time for you to listen, Ratchet. Annabelle is not a threat nor has she ever been a threat to us. She's put up with us and has clearly chosen to have us as her family over her own; she's made it very clear that she doesn't want to be part of a broken family. It's her choice if she wants to live among us; if you were to take that away, then you are no better than a decepticon throwing her into The Pit."
He pressed harder onto the vital energon lines leading to the head. His chest plates shoved Ratchet's back into the wall, giving him no room to squirm. "Annabelle is everything we ever needed in a human. She can handle herself among us and has proven herself to be a vital member by keeping us sane on this god damn planet. She's the only sane human on here that can actually mentally grasp the severity of our situation. She's the only one who actually understands our stance on the war, and she understands that if we stay here, we will die … not because of the decepticons mind you, but because of these filthy, flea-bitten humans! They want to control us like we're pets. If it hadn't been for Anna and her father vouching for us, we would've been sent here many years ago."
He forced Ratchet's upwards as he snaked his thumb underneath his jaw. Ironhide could feel the pulse of vital energon line. Thump. Thump. Thump. … Thump. Thump. Thump. Ratchet's baby blue optics stared submissively towards his brother-in-arms. The medic had forgotten wasn't a civilian turned soldier, but a trained soldier who solved his problems with force and intimidation. He didn't use fancy words to dance around the topic, but charged mercilessly towards the problem without any thought of hesitation. Whenever a danger presented itself to Ironhide, he eliminated it; at the moment, Ratchet wasn't sure if he was danger that would soon be eliminated. He flicked his optics towards Ironhide, searching for a trace of restraint. All he found was a soldier with nothing else to live for other than a human. "You're suffocating me," Ratchet muttered.
"Good," he spat hatefully. "Now you'll know how I've felt when I had to stand in her presence and not do a thing to her." Ironhide breathed a hot breath onto Ratchet's optics, casting a fog over their slick, shiny surface. "I never claimed Anna to be Chromia nor would I have ever wanted her to be anything like Chromia. It's because she's a human that I love her, Ratchet. If she were one of us, bodily, then I would not think of her as anything other than a teammate, battle partner, but she's human. She doesn't have to fight in our war because she's a human nor does she have to worry about us; however, she chose to be part of our war, and she chose to worry about us. She made the choice to be with us. She wasn't forced into the decision like many of us, me included. Anna is loyal to us because we are her family, not because she hates them or some other bullshit. Because of being human, she willingly chose to have a life with us over spending it with those fleshies. That takes loyalty, courage, love, and things that most humans lack.
"I know that what we had between us went against the rules, but it couldn't be helped. In time all love grows," he explained. He shielded his optics from Ratchet and stared blankly at the ground. His mind was choking on the words he had spoken, trying to wrap his head around their worth. He felt as if someone had just punched his spark chamber. The mech dropped the medic and turned his back to him. "It's not something you'd understand," he huffed angrily.
Ratchet gently stroked his neck, trying to analyze if any damage had been done to the vital energon lines. He looked sympathetically towards Ironhide. Ironhide's shoulder plates bristled and he carried himself with a wounded pride. Without any technological sensors, he could see his friend was hurting and he knew it wasn't a wound he could fix.
While watching Ironhide, Ratchet realized, or at least could somewhat understand, why Ironhide would allow himself to love this human. Unlike the ninety-seven percent majority of the autobots, Ironhide's pre-war friends had not joined the autobots – his ex-brothers-in-arms had taken the side of the decepticons. The only family he had had was Chromia, but with her death, he was left alone the autobot side. He was an outcast among the autobots for his strong, rather radical ideas, and a traitor to his ex-friends. He had nothing to look forward to if this war ended. If the autobots won the war, then he would live out the rest of his life peacefully and alone; while if the decepticons won, then he would have to face his ex-friends as they tortured him. Either way, he ended up alone.
Or he would have ended up alone had he not met Annabelle. She was young when she met him and gave him a fresh start on a new planet. She would grow up, resting underneath his shadow, not knowing about the pains in his spark. Anna would allow him to reconnect without the worry of ever being betrayed or judged. She was so young that she would become what he needed – something to look forward to each day. While she could not fill Chromia's shoes, Anna could offer him the same love and relief in her own unique way. And then, in time, that bond between them could grow stronger to the point that he believed that he loved her … and maybe the old soldier did.
When Ironhide and the rest of the autobots least expected it, their old, war commander had been shot in the spark with Cupid's arrow. The arrow had lodged itself just so, so that if pulled out, then he would bleed to death. That's exactly what had happened when he, Ratchet, convinced Ironhide to move on with his life. His old comrade was bleeding, and he couldn't stop it. The yellow mech bowed his head. 'He has nothing left to look forward to,' he thought with a handful of guilt. 'In his case, I guess it would have been better to never have loved, then to have loved and lost it.'
Ratchet carefully laid a hand on Ironhide's shoulder. "I do understand, Ironhide," he answered. "I understand completely." Ironhide twisted his head around to give Ratchet a death glare. Very weak restraints were holding the soldier back from striking the medic with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry that you have to suffer. I really am, old friend." Ironhide expelled a deep, stressful breath. "I can understand how someone could fall for her … she's witty, silver-tongued, feisty, talented, and the center of attention. She's very beautiful on the inside."
"What's the negative side?" Ironhide asked. "You always have a negative side to cancel out the good."
He blinked several times, bidding his time. "As much as I understand your situation, I must stand by my original position in our dilemma. Anna doesn't belong among us. None of this should've happened, and now we're all feeling the effects of your two's decisions. I be – "
Ironhide walked away.
It was simple and eloquent like a tragedy. As Ironhide rounded the corner and out of his sight, it felt like a piece of Ironhide had walked out of his life. His optics flickered to Graham, who was standing beside him. "Where's he going?" he asked innocently. "If Galloway catches him walking about, he'll get it."
"He doesn't care," Ratchet answered. "He's going to go where he wants and no force is going to stop him."
"Where's he going?" Graham repeated.
"Somewhere far away, where no one can find him."
They had not exchanged words since they first set foot outside the hotel. The space between them was ominous, thick like a fog. She felt like a total stranger sitting his cockpit. Anna no longer felt a sense of belonging to him nor did she harbor any feelings of friendship to him. As far as the young woman was concerned, Jetfire was an enemy. Her fingers curled tightly around the ring Starscream had given her until her knuckles turned white. She felt betrayed that Jetfire hadn't trusted her enough to complete her personal mission "I was doing just fine holding my own, Jetfire," she hissed. "I didn't need you to come save my ass."
"Anna, it's not safe for you to be around him," he insisted. "You're lucky you didn't die in those nine days that you were there. I'm truly surprised that nothing bad has happened to you, considering Starscream is quite violent towards his slaves and minions."
"If he is so violent, then why are you still serving him?" Anna exclaimed.
"He's my brother … I have to protect him," he said in a stern voice.
"From what? Himself?" she demanded.
"If necessary, yes," Jetfire admitted shamefully. "I'm the only one who is looking out for him, Anna. I'm the only one he has left on his side."
"So that's why you decided to kill him?" she shouted. Anna slammed her uninjured hand into the controls. "If you cared about him like a brother, then you would've done the brotherly thing and helped him. You haven't done anything to help him. And when were you going to tell him that you aren't a decepticon? Or were you going to keep deceiving him into thinking that you actually care about his safety? Either way, it was pretty cowardly of you not to tell him; especially considering that used to trust you like a brother." She folded her arms around her chest and huffed. "You and all the autobots are so – so despicable."
"Anna you need to listen to me for on – "
"No!" she yelled. "I'm sick of listening. For once I want you to listen to me! I'm so sick of no one understanding me when I speak. No one has been able to listen to me. No one!" 'Except him.' "You all believe I have some problem that can be cured with medicines, but have you ever thought, maybe the problem is you guys?! I'm not losing my mind when I say that I'm the one without a problem. You guys cause the problems, and then I get caught up in them, and I have to pay the consequences for your actions. It's so unfair, Jetfire. I hate it! HATE! HATE! HATE!!!"
"But Anna, we know why you did it," Jetfire interjected. "Ironhide told us all about your plan."
'But what he doesn't know, the rest of you don't know,' she thought bitterly. "Oh, now did he?" Anna asked rhetorically. "What else did he tell you? That I take my coffee with two teaspoons of cream? That instead of doodling flowers, I doodle Cybertronian hieroglyphs? Hell, he might as well as told you everything personal about me."
"Anna, you're over-reacting," the mech said.
"No, I'm not!" she argued. 'I'm reacting just like any sane person would when they are taken away from their place in the world.' "You are the ones who are over-reacting! You think I'm a god damned terrorist! I feel like I'm the only sane person left on this planet. I did more in my nine days with him than what you guys did in the last twenty thousand years. He was going to give me a high-ranking position among the decepticons, which I could then use to relay valuable information back to you. But no. I'm a human and incompetent of doing anything!" She peered out the window to see Jetfire rapidly descending towards the runway.
"Anna, please try to calm yourself down," Jetfire pleaded. "This kind of stress isn't good for you. You are still very weak."
"You're right this kind of stress isn't good," Anna retorted. "So why don't you get out of my fucking life, and let me do what I need to do. That'll eliminate that stress easily." She felt wheels slid over the concrete and became aware of the roar of his engines as he came to a smooth, textbook-landing stop. A NEST officer quickly wheeled over a ladder to the cockpit. Anna graciously stepped out of the cockpit. The smell of salt, sand, and ocean hit her nose like a wall. "You know what, Jetfire?" Annabelle asked as she stepped onto the ladder. "If the autobots lose this war, then they deserve to lose it."
She pushed the NEST officer out of her way. She marched across the concrete, holding her head high and ignoring the stares from the humans and autobots who had over heard her last comment. She switched directions towards the advancing medical team. "Leave the fucking stretcher!" Anna ordered. "Let's just get this fucking exam over with. I want to go home as soon as possible."
"If you believe that you'll be leaving in a day or two, then you are gravely mistaken Miss Lennox," Galloway purred eagerly. He rolled up to her in tan hummer. He mercilessly glowered at the sixteen year-old. "Your schedule is going to be full for the next month, and if I get my way, the rest of your life."
"Good luck trying, asshole," she snapped. "'Cause you'll need it."
He stepped out of the vehicle to grab her by the arm. "I've read up on your profile, Annabelle," the politician spat. "And I don't know how you've gotten away with your stunts, but that stops. You will have to answer for all your crimes."
"I don't have to answer to anyone," Anna hissed. "I have the right to remain silent while I'm here, and that's just what I'm going to do." She jerked her arm away and continued to head towards the medical squad.
The edges of his lips twitched as he watched the girl. "Someone call, Mrs. Lennox," Galloway spoke. "Tell her that her daughter is under our custody until further notice."
"Yes, Sir!" chimed Graham.
'Strange,' she thought as she sat up on the medical berth. 'How all these people can be here and I still feel alone.' Anna took a deep breath as the retinoscope's painful light passed over her pupils. She dribbles of water run down her face as they repeated the test.
"You're doing well, kiddo," the nurse said as she handed Anna a tissue. She gladly took it and wiped away the tears. "You're done for today, hun."
'Today,' Anna thought grimly. 'It means I have more tests to do tomorrow.' She nodded her.
The latino nurse squeezed her hand comfortingly and smiled warmly at Annabelle. "You're very brave for having to endure the decepticons, and very lucky that you're alive. Not most who get caught by them come back alive."
'Whoever said I was alive?' she retorted mentally. 'I feel pretty dead on the inside.'
"I wish my brother would've been as lucky as you, missy," the nurse rambled. Anna glanced up curiously and sadly at the forty-seven year-old. "You wouldn't know him, but your dad did. They were in the same regime. Fig. That was the nickname your dad gave him." Anna glanced away. She didn't like where this conversation was going. "He died in the initial strike against Scorponok, a lot of good men died that day…" The nurse turned her head towards the sound of anxious feet. "I think you have some visitors, Annabelle."
'No, shit.'
"Anna?" breathed her mother. She didn't have time to turn her head till she felt her mother gripping her. "Oh, my Anna," Sarah spoke softly. Her arms protectively cradled her daughter as she rocked softly back and fourth. Annabelle felt her mother's tears drip onto her forehead. "I've missed you so much, baby. I thought I would never get you back." Anna hesitantly patted her mother on the back. She didn't know what else to do in this situation. "I'm so sorry you had to endure that, Anna." Sarah planted her lips on her daughter's forehead. "I swear nothing bad will ever happen again to you."
'It's okay, Mom,' she thought. 'It wasn't that bad. It was actually refreshing.'
She felt another pair of arms, stronger, wrapped around her. "Anna," choked her father. His graying-hair brushed her neck as he kissed her at the top of her neck. She could feel her father's arms shack as he gripped his live daughter. Joyful teardrops splashed onto his uniform. God had finally answered one of his prayers, and luckily his most important prayer. His heart pumped blood faster than it ever had before in its life. Will's throat closed shut as a sob built up in his vocal cords. 'The worst is over,' he told himself.
Anna winced as they forced pressure onto her injured rib. "Mom, Dad," she muttered. "I'm okay, but can – "
"You may want to be careful," Fig's sister spoke. "She does have a broken rib."
Both parents let go of their child, ashamed that they could've hurt her. "Thanks," Anna said, rubbing the side of her chest. "It's good to see you guys," she lied. She pulled her lips tightly together in a false smile. "I really missed seeing you. It feels good to be back on solid ground with you guys." Sarah used the bottom of her palm to wipe away the tears. "It feels good to be surrounded by family," she lied easily. "Really good." Her eyes suddenly detracted away from her parents to the looming, faintly blue shadow on the far wall. It doesn't belong to a man. It belongs to a machine.
The deep azure mech bended down to catch a glimpse of the family, only to be disappointed when Anna stared at him blankly, like a deer in the headlights. The human doesn't appear to be scared, but she knows he isn't here for any good reasons. She easily read the unsaid words that floated in his diluted blue optics: I'm sorry.
"I know," she seemed to say with her own blue eyes. "But it's not enough. It's not okay to come any closer."
"Jolt," Lennox asked. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm sorry for interrupting you and your mate, Major William Lennox." The sound of his Greek accented voice echoed off the naked walls with ominous clarity. "But Mr. Galloway is wanting to speak to Annabelle … in private." He glanced wearily towards Sarah. "He assured me it would be a quick meeting. Less than fifteen minutes."
Unshed tears began to build up behind Sarah's eyelids once again. "It'll be okay, Mom," Anna reassured. "I'll be right back. Maybe then we could eat dinner and talk then." Her mother softly nodded and watched painfully as Anna drifted towards Jolt's hand.
Jolt was like Sideswipe and Sunstreaker … physically. Instead of feet like Ironhide and Optimus, he balanced himself on two, not-so-black wheels … like the twins. The mechs' chest was wide with a narrow waist that models would envy. His car doors protruded awkwardly from his back, just like the twins; however, his hands were more delicately built for small, detailed work. The end of his fingers came to a small, dull claw. And unlike the twins, his face did not appear to be friendly, carefree, or human. The sharp edges of his alien face and three horn-like protrusions atop his head looked deadly.
He stared down, snobbishly at the human as she reclined against his fingers. How was it, that such a small human could cause so much stress? Anna avoided eye contact with the machine and stared nervously at the lines in his palm. Jolt could feel her muscles twitch anxiously. The minute twitches evolved into shakes. The human wrapped her arms around her chest as she felt her body betray her and shake. She bit her lip, trying to hold back the sob. She pulled her legs closer to her head to try to hide the pain.
"Anna?" he asked with slight worry. "Are you okay?"
'No,' she answered. "Yes, just remembering something is all."
He peeled his eyes away from her. The medical apprentice didn't need any elaborate explanations to guess what she was recalling. The mech had seen many young and old, unprepared and "prepared" 'bots return from decepticon clutches with memories too horribly to talk about or mention. He'd seen them throw violent fits when they heard someone mutter "decepticons". He'd seen a 'bot throw down another comrade, all because of a simple touch. He'd good 'bots, good friends completely destroyed after being held prisoner by the decepticons.
Many ignorant autobots offered their condolences to those unlucky enough to survive the decepticon death camps. "I'm so sorry," they would say, or, if they were really stupid, they would say, "At least it's over now." It was never over. No, when someone returned, it was just the beginning of a hard road to recovery. 'Is there even a recovery?' Jolt asked himself. 'Or do you simply come to the point where you learn to hide your pain from everyone else, just so that they'll stop reminding you of what you went through?'
But what Jolt thought Anna was reliving, was not close to what she was reliving.
It felt so wrong to be in Jolt's hand, like she was violating some ancient treaty. She didn't feel safe curled around in his fingers; she felt like she was being carried to the butcher to be slaughtered. Anna didn't understand why she felt the way she felt; which only gave the sob in her throat more strength. She did understand that Jolt wasn't good … or good enough. His touch felt unnaturally warm to her. The human yearned for the seeker's cool touch against her hot skin and the sharp edges of his fingers. Her body missed the way Starscream's awkwardly built fingers would curl possessively around her. She knew, in his grip, he would never drop her. He may squeeze her to death, but he would never drop her or toss her aside like an old toy.
'But he won't hold me again,' she thought. 'I won't be seeing him anymore. There is no more Starscream. He's gone.' At that thought, her body cringed. She'd spent the last few hours focusing her energy on Jetfire, but now she had nothing to distract her restless mind. Only now was the she beginning to realize what she had left behind in Moscow. 'Gone,' she repeated. It seemed too horrible to be real. 'He's gone. All because of them.' Anna forgot to take a breath as the numbness of loneliness washed over her body. Unlike the Grinch, whose heart grew three times as large, hers shrunk three times its size. Anna felt the same pain as when she was dead return to her body. Everything was too loud once again and everything hurt so much. She felt like tiny maggots were burrowing underneath her skin, stripping her of her energy. She had to open her eyes to tell show herself that what she felt was in her mind.
And she craved that warm, secure, fuzzy light. Annabelle wanted to crawl back into it, so that it would protect her from hell burning inside her mind. She wanted to return to the once place where she felt she belonged. She pined for the chance to feel the hot lightening zigzagging over her skin, instilling a deep assurance that everything will be okay.
"What's a spark?" Anna asked hollowly.
Jolt looked bewildered at the human. "It's our heart and soul," he replied snobbishly.
"I know that," she said, trying fruitfully to put anger into her words. "But what is it?"
He took a deep breath for no reason other than to bid time. "That's a difficult question to answer," he said frankly. "We still don't know exactly what a spark is. It – it operates like a sun for the majority of its life, but there are instances when it breaks our, Cybertronian, laws of physics; which we can really only explain through religious understandings. Scientists, like Wheeljack, who studied the spark, say these unexplainable occurrences are because the spark is a multi-dimensional energy source. Because it is multi-dimensional, we may never be able to fully understand it until we can access those other dimensions. Does that make sense, Miss Annabelle?"
She nodded weakly.
There was a look on her face that said he hadn't answered her question, not completely. "Why did you want to know?" Jolt asked uncomfortably.
"A spark gives off mostly blue, almost violet light, doesn't it?" she asked. "And it looks like a bunch of tiny lightening bolts trapped inside a clear glass sphere, isn't it? Isn't the spark hot, but not hot like the sun but like a heating pad. It isn't that big either. Maybe 10 feet in diameter? Very small compared to your guys' size."
"How do you know this?" the young mech asked seriously.
Anna looked to her hands as they cradled something that wasn't there. If she tried hard enough, she could pretend to feel the blue sphere's warmth in her hand and see the low glow it emitted. A tiny, painful smile crawled onto her lips. 'I'll never feel that again,' she told herself bluntly. She closed her eyes, forcing several tears to drip down her face. "Because when I died, I saw Starscream's spark." Annabelle turned onto her other side so that Jolt couldn't see her face. 'And it was the most beautiful thing I've ever had the pleasure to experience.'
Jolt had stopped walking. His optics strained to focus on the human. "You died?" he choked on the words. "Then who – "
"Twenty-two brought me back," she muttered weakly. "He didn't mean to kill me. I should've known better than to provoke him like that. But he brought me back. He took care of me, wrapped me up in bandages, and took care of me. Twenty-two watched me all night after that."
"There she is," spoke Galloway is a frustrated tone.
"Sir, I don't think this is – "
"Shut your mouth, alien," the director interrupted. He marched towards the pair in his pristine, neatly iron suit. His too tightly tied, yellow tie blew out of place. "I've waited too damn long to talk to this traitor." He stopped short of ten feet from the mech. "Unless you would like your privileges and guardianship over Major Graham revoked, I would highly suggest that you set Miss Lennox on the ground."
The mech reluctantly lowered Annabelle onto the ground. She unsteadily stood and refused to make eye contact with Theodore Galloway. "Good," he breathed impatiently. "Follow me." Like a tired puppy, Annabelle followed behind obediently to a room not fifteen yards away. Galloway closed the door behind them, to prevent any wandering ears from hearing their conversation. In the all white room was a black, stainless steel table with pair of matching ebony chairs on either side. Annabelle easily slid onto a chair while the grey-haired, badly aged director took a chair across from her. His once pretty green eyes had faded to an ugly shade of green and gray. He placed both elbows on the table, angrily leaning towards her.
"Long time, no see," Anna said unfriendly.
"Yes, indeed it has been, Miss Lennox," he stated coldly. "Apparently I've focused my energy on containing those wild aliens when I should've been focused on you. I don't know how you've gotten this far without being punished, but that ends here. I am going to try you and send you to jail for the rest of your natural life. I will personally make sure of that."
"You can't try me," she protested weakly.
"What?!" the director repeated.
"You can't try me," the girl repeated. "I'm not human, so you can't try me."
"You are too human," he pointed out.
"Not mentally," she retorted. Anna raised her head, wiping away her tears. "Mentally I'm Cybertronian, just ask Optimus. Technically, he has to try me."
"Now you're just trying to weasel your way out."
"No, I'm not," Annabelle lied. "I'm one of them. Ask any of them. I've been raised to be like them. I think like them, see things like them, and know their language. I am, very much one of them; only, I'm made out of flesh instead of metal."
"I don't believe you."
"Then you are an ignorant bastard."
"At least I'm not a traitor to my country," he boasted. "Now, you are going to give me all the information that you know about these decepticons, and maybe, just maybe, I'll send you to a prison here in the United States where you'll have human rights."
"I want my free call," Anna stated bluntly.
"You don't get a free call," he explained.
"Then I won't talk," she answered shortly. "Not until I get my call."
He pulled out his black, smart razor phone and slid it towards Annabelle. "One call," he spat.
"Get out then," Anna ordered. "I'll let you know when you can comeback."
He stormed out of his chair and opened the door. "Five minutes." Galloway raised his left hand to demonstrate how much time she had. "Then I'll come in and finish out conversation." He slammed the door shut.
She flipped open the phone, and her fingers quickly, desperately raced over the numbers. She brought the phone to her ear, where she could hear it ring. 'Please pick up my phone,' she begged. The phone rang for a second time, and then a third. 'Please.' As if an angel had answered her prayers, the person on the other line picked up the phone. She felt her heart falter. What was she to say? I'm sorry? It's not what you think? "Twenty-two?" she asked hesitantly. "You broke your promise. You told me I'd never be alone again, but here I am, surrounded by a bunch of strangers I don't know."
A long silence followed.
"Please, Twenty-two, say something." She placed the side of her banging head against the cool surface of the table. It felt just like his armor. "Please, I'm falling apart here and I don't know why."
No answer.
"I know you're mad at me, I would be too," Anna pleaded. "But I didn't want to leave you. I never wanted to leave you. If I had had it my way, I'd still be beside you right now in Moscow. Please, just say something, Twenty-two. I need to know you aren't just something of my imagination."
"Annabelle." It was screechy, hateful, angry, and blunt, but it was his voice.
She took a deep breath. "Twenty-two," she breathed. "Will you come save me?"
"No." Her heart sank. "You need to learn to deal with your own damn problems for once. You're back in their clutches. You should be telling them everything right now."
"Please, just listen for once. I'm so tired of arguing and no one understanding me," she cried. "You're the only one who can listen and actual understand what I'm saying." Anna was beginning to hyperventilate. "I wasn't lying when I said you were turning my life around, Twenty-two. And I never got to tell you that I switched sides. I don't want to be on the autobot side anymore. I want to be on your side, standing next to you, serving under you." The hand holding the phone was beginning to shake. "I know I said I didn't trust you, and I don't, but I realize now I trust you more than I trust them. I feel so much safer in your hands than in theirs." She tried to take a deep breath to calm herself.
"I don't know what went on between us, and what we had was horrible, abusive, savage, angry, hateful, pitiful, pathetic, and amazing. I can't explain it, but all I can see, hear, taste, and smell are the bad parts; however, what I feel is something amazing and addicting," she confessed. "I know it's only been a few hours, maybe six at most, but I'm missing you. I need you right now before I completely fall apart mentally." A small puddle of tears rested on the table. "Please, I'm scared. Okay, I admit it. I'm scared. I want my guardian back. I need you right now. Twenty-two? Answer me, please?" she cried.
"You should've thought about that before you betrayed me," he snarled.
"I may have lied to you, but I never betrayed you," she sobbed. "I never wanted any of this to happen. When I woke up, Jetfire was in the room. He told me that Mirage would spare Skywarp's life if Thundercracker told him where you were keeping me. So yeah … that's how Jetfire found me. So I locked myself up in the bathroom because I didn't want to see or argue with him anymore, and when I came out, you were back. I tried to ignore you by watching the TV, but Jetfire's glare was unnerving. It came to the point where I felt threatened, so I left the bedroom to come over to you.
"I can't explain my logic, but I felt safer being by you than Jetfire. And I liked it how you held onto me when Jetfire came into the room. I feel safe in your arms and hands; which is messed up since you killed me. But you brought me back and cared for me. Hell, you even took me out to see one of the greatest spectacles in human existence. And now I'm starting to realize you've taken better care of me than what any of the humans and autobots could have done. Please, believe me. This is so hard for me right now," Anna confessed, swallowing her pride. "Please, I love you."
The door ominously creaked open, and Galloway walked into the room. Anna watched weakly as the elderly man ripped the phone away from her slippery fingers. "Who the hell is this?" he asked impatiently. He slumped into the black chair, his limbs going numb. The phone fell out of his fingers and landed on the floor. The director's pale face turned an unhealthy shade of ghostly white. He stared frighteningly at the young woman in front of him.
Very faintly, she could hear Starscream's screechy voice on Director Galloway's phone warning them, "You will all die."