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Problems
Day 5, Part 2: The New Prime
"Tracks, this is Ratchet. Come in. What's your status?"
"This is Tracks here," responded the Corvette as he sped up the freeway. "I'll be coming up on the New York City limits soon. I can see the fireworks from here and they look spectacular."
"Sunstreaker radioed me earlier this evening," Ratchet's voice responded. "His engine overheated and he's been further delayed. He's at least a day behind you Tracks, maybe more."
"His loss. He's going to miss the New York highlights. In hind sight, it may have been a good idea to do some internal systems checks before we left."
"WHAT?!" Ratchet's voice shrieked over the radio. The pitch was so shrill, Tracks skidded from the feedback. "You were in the desert for over a week and the only thing you do when you come back is outer body work?! I swear there's not a single practical command between the two of you outside your own afts! When you get back to base I'm gonna-"
Laser fire suddenly peppered the road. The radio fizzled in and out as Tracks swerved to dodge it all.
"I'm afraid you'll have to threaten me another time, Ratchet. I'm under attack."
"Who is it? How many, Tracks?"
Tracks transformed and jumped to the side of the road, searching wildly for the source. He had been fired upon from behind trees or boulders, the identities of his attackers unknown. But then he caught a glance of Wildrider standing right in the open.
"Stunticons! From the amount of ammo fired at me, I'd say all of them!"
"Fall back, Tracks. You're outnumbered."
"Don't have to tell me twice." Tracks transformed, speeding away from the fusillade and unfolding the wings from his under carriage. He was in the air before the gestalt team could even transform to follow.
"Those unrefined louts better not have marred by new paint job," he muttered.
Even if they had, Tracks had no opportunity to avenge his shiny coat. He was badly outnumbered and out-muscled. Only an idiot would choose to stay and fight; and Tracks was no idiot. He flew away from any roads, making it impossible for the land-bound Decepticons to follow.
Once a safe distance away, Tracks landed and transformed, pulling out his weapon. He was glad for his dark paint job. It would make him harder to find. He was silently glad Sunstreaker was not with him. The yellow Autobot's radiant paint caused him to practically glow, even at night. Not to mention he did not possess the power of flight that Tracks had found so useful this night. Even though Sunstreaker was fast, there was no guarantee he would have outrun all five Stunticons.
"Hello Ratchet, I have returned," Tracks hailed over his radio. "Sorry to cut our conversation short like that. I'm now in a safer location."
"What's your status?" Ratchet's voice came back to him.
"Still in one piece and stunning. But those Stunticons are definitely going to be a problem. If I had to take a guess, I'd say there were put there to stop any Autobots from getting to the city."
"Or getting out," Ratchet mused.
"That's a disturbing thought. So what shall I do then? Shall I proceed to the city my own way or would you like me to rendezvous with Sideswipe and Bluestreak's team first?"
"Sideswipe and Bluestreak are already in the city."
Tracks paused. "Didn't they have the Dinobots with them? How did they pull that off?"
"You can ask them when you get there. Sideswipe requested radio silence until morning. He definitely has something planned."
Tracks had to smile. "That red son of a glitch usually does. Though whether it's good or not is another matter entirely."
"Don't I know it. Get yourself into the city and maintain radio silence as well for the rest of the night. We'll see how things look in the morning."
"Alright then, Tracks out." He ended the connection and then shut down his radio completely. Resting the gun on his shoulder, Tracks gazed at the iridescent light show of the sprawling metropolis ahead.
"New York, New York, it's one hell of a town."
There was much Prowl would have given to be anywhere else but here. Despite millions of years of experience and training, both with the Cybertron Defense Force and also with the Autobots, he felt very ill prepared. As he led his small convoy through the maze of buildings and rubble, he tried to come up with a plan. They had a target of unknown location they needed to secure– preferably without being found by their very large enemies. Caution would be required.
"Jazz," Prowl radioed. "You're going to take Ironhide and be our stealth team. When we find Optimus Prime, it will be your job to get him out of here. Wheeljack and I will be distractions if necessary."
"No way, Prowl," Ironhide argued. "We're not gonna leave you two to the Decepticons just ta get Prime out. I know he'd agree if he were here."
"Well he's not," Prowl snapped back. "I appreciate the concern Ironhide, but you have to agree that the top priority is Prime. He cannot end up in Decepticon hands. The Autobots need him."
Ironhide silently conceded.
"Wheeljack, if you would rather not-"
"No way, Prowl. I'm with you."
"Good. Autobots, stay low. We've got both seekers and cassettes to deal with. We hit as fast and as silent as possible. This is a battle we have no hope of winning by force. I know this isn't usually our way, but if any trouble comes up, run and regroup."
"Gotcha, Prowl!" Jazz chimed in.
"But I don't have to like it," Ironhide added.
"No," Prowl agreed, "you don't."
Above them, through the buildings, they could see two seekers descending. The Autobots followed their path and cautiously moved as close as they dared to survey the scene.
Thundercracker and Starscream stood around while Ravage paced and growled outside a brand new building not yet open for business. Energon dripped from the cat's jaws.
"Good boy, Ravage," Starscream said with approval in his voice. "It's about time we turned up something."
Ravage slunk toward the building.
"Ravage, get back here," Thundercracker barked
Ravage held back, but growled impatiently.
Thundercracker turned to Starscream. "Why don't we just blow the whole building? It will save us a lot of trouble."
"Don't be stupid," Starscream hissed back. "Megatron will want proof. He'll have us sifting through that mess for weeks. Even as small as he is, we both know Optimus Prime is very resourceful. He may survive the explosion. We need a body. Skywarp is bringing Rumble and Frenzy. We'll wait for them.
"Ravage, secure the parameter. Make sure he doesn't go anywhere until we're ready for him."
The panther's dark form slunk silently off into the night shadows. Prowl knew the feline was most dangerous in the darkness. They would have to keep an extra close watch out for him. Prowl motioned for Ironhide and Jazz to move to the building while he and Wheeljack remained outside.
The two swiftly and silently ran to the side and pressed against the foundation. Jazz scanned the darkness. No motion detected; so far so good. Jazz kept a vigil while Ironhide looked for a way in. The brand new building was locked down tight.
"It's no use unless we break a window or something," Ironhide growled. "But that'll sure call the Decepticons to us."
Jazz nodded. He peeked around the corner and saw Ravage crouched by a broken glass door, optics glued to the opening his prey must have taken. The only reason he had not broken through himself was because of Starscream's order to wait.
The Autobots needed a diversion if they ever wanted to get Ravage to leave his post. Jazz pulled back and motioned to where Prowl and Wheeljack were hiding. After getting their attention, he pointed in Ravage's direction. Prowl nodded and the two disappeared from sight. Moments later, Wheeljack's car form sped by and back into the night.
Ravage jumped to his feet and snarled in the direction the little Autobot had gone, but was not leaving his post.
"Come on," Jazz urged internally. "Take the bait."
Wheeljack revved his engine in the darkness and then flickered his headlights. That was more than the metallic cat could stand and he bounded off in hot pursuit. Jazz and Ironhide wasted no time running toward the door. Jazz could hear Starscream's shrill voice demanding what Ravage was up to as they slipped through the broken glass.
The building inside was newly carpeted and only partially furnished. There was electricity, but the elevator was not yet in service. And there was no sign of Optimus Prime. Near the stairs, they found traces of internal fluids and followed it up to the second floor. This one was full of cubicles and would have been quite a task to check all possible hiding places, except the trail of fluid led them right to their goal.
"Prime!" Ironhide gasped when he saw the figure slumped under a desk. A small stain of fuel pooled around him.
Optimus Prime raised his head and his optics flickered weakly.
"Ironhide... Jazz... Thank the matrix you're still alive. I've been searching all over for you."
"Worry about yourself, Boss," Ironhide shot back. "We're gonna get you outta here."
"It's pretty deep." Jazz pressed his hand to the large gash in Prime's side. It was obvious Ravage had gotten a hold of their leader. Jazz pulled back and his palm was covered in energon.
"This ain't good."
Ironhide put one of Prime's arms around his neck and hefted him to his feet with a soft groan from his leader. "Prime, can you transform at all?"
Optimus clutched at his wound with his free hand. "I can but... makes the wound worse. Lose more energy..."
Jazz ran to the window and looked down. As he feared, Ravage was right back at his post by the door.
"Can't go back that way." Jazz's brain began to churn with possible plans. They needed another exit; one the Decepticons wouldn't expect or notice. One that would ensure Optimus got out in one piece.
Unfortunately, such a plan did not have the opportunity to present itself. Rumble and Frenzy were at the building entrance and they broke their way in within seconds. The shattering glass was heard on the second floor as Ravage led the charge inside. It would take him no time at all to follow Prime's trail right to the Autobots.
Jazz called over Ironhide who was trying to weld the most vital part Optimus Prime's fuel lines back together. They would have to move fast.
The door to the second floor burst open as Rumble kicked it with gusto– arms still in pile driver mode. He was planning to make good use of them on whatever he found in there. Ravage ran the tracking sensors in his snout over the floor.
"Come on out, Autobot," Rumble taunted. "You ain't scard 'a us, are ya?"
"I'm going to really enjoy this," Frenzy said in a lower voice.
Ravage quickly picked up the trail and made a bee line straight down a row of cubicles and growled outside one in particular. The twin Cassetticons stiffened, this was it. All three jumped out at once and found...
"What the slag is that?" Frenzy demanded.
The small, blinking apparatus certainly wasn't an Autobot. Behind the door Rumble had kicked open, Jazz pressed a detonator switch. The Decepticons watched the tiny round device flicker faster; then it beeped. It suddenly exploded in a shower of smoke and sticky dust.
"Frag it! What is this?" Rumbled demanded, stumbling blindly back. The debris from the explosion stuck to his skin and optics.
"I can't see!" Frenzy clawed wildly at his optics as Ravage snarled and tried to wipe his face on the carpet.
"That's our cue," Jazz whispered from behind the door. "Let's split."
He and Ironhide each grabbed one of Prime's arms and carried him down the stairs. They slipped out of the broken glass door and made a dash away from the building.
Nearby, Thundercracker was trying to peek into the smokey, second story window to see what was going on.
"There they are!" Skywarp noticed the mini Autobots making their escape.
"They've seen us! Go, go!" Ironhide barked as they surged faster.
Skywarp charged them, easily catching up in a few paces. He lurched to sweep them up in one hand, only to get the heavy steel of a wrecking ball in the chest, shattering his cockpit and knocking him into Thundercracker. Both fell into a heap.
Starscream came around the corner. "Optimus Prime!" he screamed at them. The bodies of the other felled seekers were still in his way, struggling to get up "Everyone, get him!"
At the rate we're going, they're going to catch us, Jazz's mind panicked.
A tall blur dashed between him and Jazz, scooping up the inured Autobot leader with a "Run guys!" As Starscream opened fire on them, they didn't need to be old twice. Jazz and Ironhide transformed and sped away as laser fire peppered around them.
Starscream moved to give chase, but the wrecking ball again swung back and clipped him in the wing. Starscream squawked and stumbled into the building.
"Who's doing that?" Ironhide wondered.
Crystal managed to give him a sideways glance while she ran with Optimus Prime securely in her arms.
"Who do you think?"
Jazz's senses picked up that it was Grimlock scrambling out of the cab of the wrecking crane.
"Subtlety never was his forte," he quipped.
As they ran for cover, an extremely angry Ravage bounded from the building and the seekers were starting to get up. Cover fire came from above, slowing Ravage down while the group tried to scramble up the hill.
"Get out of here! We'll cover you!" Prowl called.
"Jazz, go with them," Crystal told him. "I hid the car. Blaster can tell you where it is."
Jazz stared at her. Since when was she in charge of this operation?
"GO!" She grabbed Grimlock's hand and took off into the night. Ironhide followed her.
Jazz turned around and fired at the Decepticons.
"Sideswipe."
The Lamborghini looked up from his work when Bluestreak called to him. The Autobot in question was standing outside the hanger, multicolored hues reflecting off his paint.
"Pretty lights," Swoop approved as he and the other Dinobots wandered out to look at the sky.
Sideswipe joined them.
The sparkling, multicolored melee of the Fourth of July fireworks climax exploded over the harbor. It reflected on the putrid water, making it glitter like a magic lake.
Sideswipe watched silently for a moment and then clapped his hand on Bluestreak's shoulder.
"Glad you came, Blue?"
Bluestreak smiled at the red Autobot. "Yeah, I am."
Crystal cursed the fireworks show. It was brilliant and spectacular and made it nearly impossible to hide in the darkness. Right now, the only option they had was to run as far and as fast as they could. Which was not as fast as Crystal would have liked to go as she had a wounded Autobot in one arm and was holding Grimlock's hand with the other.
The little Dinobot was not the fastest runner and she was practically dragging him behind.
"Let me Grimlock go!" he demanded as he twisted out of Crystal's trip. "Me Grimlock not run! Me Grimlock fight!"
He tumbled free and bounced back on his feet.
Crystal stopped in her tracks. "Grimlock!"
"Go! Me Grimlock find later! Crystal run!"
"But-" Crystal called as he ran off. She looked down for help. "Ironhide, don't let him go."
In vehicle mode, Ironhide bumped her calves to make her move forward. "You don't worry about him. Just go. He has a lot better chance than you do."
Reluctantly, Crystal started off again with Ironhide at her heels. The Cassettes never had a chance to follow her; the wall of Autobots kept them plenty distracted. The seekers, however, were going after the bigger prize.
Crystal instinctively ducked at the sound of low buzzing jet engines, despite that they were still above the roof tops. The rumble of the machines shook her to the core. As long as she stayed near buildings, Crystal hoped they couldn't get to her.
Ironhide transformed and looked to the sky. "Them slaggin' seekers know we're down here."
Crystal pressed her back against the wall. "How are we gonna lose them?"
"Leave me behind," Optimus said weakly. "It– it's not worth..."
"Shush. You have no say in this," Crystal informed him. She turned to Ironhide. "Come on."
Ironhide transformed as Crystal ran off again, following on her heels.
"You got some sorta plan?" he wondered.
"Those jets are big, but we can use it to our advantage. Follow me."
"I've got them," Thundercracker radioed. "It appears they're with a human. They're making a bee line north east and-"
Thundercracker paused as he saw the girl and her robot companions run into a green house. The seeker banked right, swerving wide to turn around and get the building back in his sight.
"They're hiding in a small building. I don't see them exiting anywhere. I'm going down."
"We're right behind you," Starscream's voice radioed back.
Instantly, Skywarp was in the area, transforming as he hit the ground.
"They're in there, huh?" he said to Thundercracker who had also landed.
"I think so."
"Let's just torch it and get it over with," Skywarp announced, brandishing the laser riffle on his arm.
Starscream swatted him in the head as he landed. "Don't be brash, Skywarp. While I'm not fully opposed to your idea, we need to make sure no one gets out." He fired his null ray at the door, melting the exit shut. He moved to do the same to the door on the opposite end as well.
"But you said Megatron wanted evidence," Thundercracker reasoned.
Starscream frowned. "I'm changing my mind. Autobots that size are hardly evidence as they are. I'm sick of this chase. Megatron can pick out what parts he wants himself. Let's burn it."
There was an explosion in the distance, but Crystal was still running and she didn't dare look back. Who knew how much time her trick had bought them? Yes, they had gone into the green house, but the moment the jet had to turn around to come back, she had dashed back out the way she had come in and ran back in a direction that, she hoped, they weren't expecting to look. Crystal suspected she had much to thank to the fact that Decepticon seekers were used to tracking something much larger than herself.
She ran until she was completely out of breath. Only when she couldn't pull herself a step further did she stop and fall to her knees, panting for air. She was still clutching the wounded Autobot leader to her chest as Ironhide rolled up and transformed.
"How's Prime doing?"
Crystal gently placed Optimus on the ground. Her shirt and pants were soaked from his wound. "He hasn't really done much but lay there and bleed on me."
Ironhide knelt next to his leader. "Ah tried ta fix him, but I'm no medic. We need ta get him to Wheeljack."
"I hope he and the others are okay," Crystal said, taking off her sweater. She had a tank top on underneath and ripped the sweater into strips.
"Nah, they'll be fine. A few Cassetticons won't stop them," Ironhide assured her. "We're built better than that."
Crystal gave him a smile as she wrapped Optimus's wound as best she could. He moaned as he was tended to and his optics flickered slightly before settling on the human.
"You," he said slowly, "risk much to help my Autobots. I thank you."
"Yes I do," she agreed as she picked him up again. "You stay with us. Don't let that risk go to waste."
The splashing of several footfalls echoed themselves through the sewer.
"Not one of your brightest ideas, Jazz," Wheeljack grouched.
"Hey, it worked, didn't it? All this junk is gonna make it mighty hard for those Cassetticons to track us now."
"Them maybe not feel like tracking after what me Grimlock do to them."
"We are the champions, my frieeeeend!" Jazz bellowed. "And we'll keep on fighting to the eeeend!"
"Jazz, keep it down," Prowl hissed. "We need to stay quiet."
"Not to worry, Prowl, we took care of those Decepticons good," Jazz grinned. "Besides, we're almost there. Once we find the car, we'll be out of here in no time."
Homing onto Blaster's signal, Jazz led them through the sewers. They surfaced near Crystal's car, parked in an unlit alley. Prowl stood on his toes and opened the front passenger door.
"Wow! You guys look like you had an interesting time," Blaster's radio form greeted as they got in.
"We've definitely seen better days," Wheeljack replied in a tired voice.
"You guys find Prime?"
"Sure did!" Jazz said. "Crystal and Ironhide have him and-"
"And they're not back yet," Prowl finished with a worried frown.
"Nope," Blaster confirmed. "You guys are the only ones I've seen."
Prowl looked out the window into the night. "We should search for her."
"Where?" Wheeljack argued. "We don't know which way they went. What if going out there just puts Ravage right back on our tail?"
"So we just abandon her to the Decepticons."
"Prowl, Wheeljack's got a point," Jazz cut in. "We can't play this game all night. And Crys isn't alone. She's got Ironhide with her and she knows where we're meeting. Right now we just need to wait."
Prowl frowned some more. Jazz knew he hated waiting. He hated any circumstance he wasn't able to control. But he stayed, as did the rest of them, and the car fell into silence. Minute after minute ticked by and still nothing.
One of the car doors clicked open.
"Grimlock, where are you going?" Wheeljack demanded. The Dinobot jumped out of the
car. "Me Grimlock tell Crystal me find. So me Grimlock go to keep promise."
He only made it a few paces from the car when Crystal's tired figure trudged out of the darkness. She carried a bundle in her arms and was shadowed by Ironhide who looked equally as tired.
"Me Grimlock come find," Grimlock told her.
"Thanks, Grim," she replied with a weak smile. She opened the passenger door and lay down the motionless body of Optimus Prime on the seat.
"He doesn't look too good," she admitted.
"I'll decide how he looks," Wheeljack insisted as he planted himself next to the body.
"I'll get us home as fast as I can. Hold onto him and stay out of sight."
They reached the apartment without incident, everyone exhausted. The Decepticons may have expected Autobots as cars, but they certainly weren't looking for Autobots in cars. Crystal gently carried Optimus Prime up the stairs to the second floor. Wheeljack had closed all the leaks, but the leader still looked in a bad way.
But they were home now; everyone was together. They were safe. Though exhausted, the team was hopeful for the future after time to rest and recover.
Crystal paused when she reached her door, body rigid and eyes wide. Her door was wide open. The apartment looked completely ransacked. Her heart jumped in her throat, face pale. After all that she had been through that night, she felt like she was going to faint.
Prowl placed a hand on her leg, equally alarmed. "Crystal, remain outside. Wheeljack will stay with you. Autobots, fan out. Make sure it's secure."
The remaining Autobots pulled out their weapons and systematically went through the apartment. Crystal was dead silent outside, nervously looking around, her heart pounding. She clutched Optimus to her chest, ready to flee again if the need arose.
A while later Prowl came back to the door. "The place is empty. It's safe to come inside."
Crystal walked in, too dazed to even lock the door behind her. She set Optimus on the couch and gazed around. The entire place was trashed. Nothing was stolen, just destroyed. Her TV was shattered, furniture broken, cabinets stripped and torn from the wall, and broken dishes all over the kitchen floor.
She worked her jaw up and down before finally coming up with the words to speak. "What... what the hell happened here?!" she squeaked in a high voice.
"Do you think the Decepticons found this place?" Ironhide asked quietly.
"No." Prowl shook his head. "This isn't Decepticon work. Humans did this."
Crystal's phone hummed in her pocket and she quickly snatched it out.
"Don? Oh my gosh, Don! You won't believe what just happened to me! Someone trashed my apartment! What?" She was cut off as the person on the other end started going a million miles a minute in her ear.
"Don, slow down. What?" She wandered away to get a bit more privacy for her conversation. Jazz still followed after her.
"What you are talking about? Look, I'm sorry I didn't come back. I had a situation. I thought it would be fine."
"What's he saying?" Jazz demanded. "What's going on?"
Mostly just to shut him up, Crystal picked him up and balanced him on her hip as if he were a toddler. Jazz didn't mind, as he usually didn't. In this position, he could press his audio to the phone and hear both sides to the conversation.
"Kid, I screwed up big," Don's voice was saying. "These guys are serious, big time. I swear I didn't know this would happen. They took it personal when you knocked out their prize fighter and then disappeared. You gave her a concussion, Crystal. She wasn't allowed to fight tonight and that one was the big one. You lost these guys a lot of money, Kid."
"Are you saying they're mafia or something? Were they the guys that trashed my place?" Crystal demanded, her voice rising.
"You mean they've been there? Kid, get out! Come stay at my place. I'll smooth everything out with them. I'm sure all they really want is for you to start fighting for them. When you knocked out Kat, that made you the new money maker. I'll just talk to them and we'll work out some kind of deal-"
"No deal," Crystal said as she hung up her phone and turned it off.
By then, the other Autobots were lurking within earshot. Crystal put Jazz down and looked at them, her expression betraying her fear. Then she gazed around at her destroyed home. Letting out a long breath, she set her mouth in a firm line.
"We're getting out of here. Now. Wheeljack, take anything in the apartment you can use to repair your friend. Gut any appliances you want."
"Right," Wheeljack saluted.
"Ironhide, help him."
"You got it, kid."
"Prowl." Their gazes met for a moment before Crystal gave a dismissive motion in his direction. "Delegate. I want everyone in the car by the time I'm ready to go."
She ran down the hall to her bedroom. Jazz and Prowl looked at each other and then followed. They found her in the midst of the disaster zone that used to be her bedroom. It was just as bad with her bed turned upside down and clothes torn and scattered everywhere.
Crystal was stuffing everything that wasn't destroyed into a large duffel bag.
"Crystal," Prowl said. "Explain to me what's going on. Maybe we can help."
"This one is out of your hands, Prowl," Crystal grunted as she hastily rooted around. "And I'm afraid this time it's my fault. I pissed off the wrong guys tonight." She moved to the bathroom and packed everything she could get her hands on. "Whomever did this is probably coming back. We need to get out of here. Grimlock?"
"What?" the Dinobot leader asked.
"Put this bag in the trunk." She gave him the car keys and hurried to fill another piece of luggage. Every once in a while she would make a sound when she found an object or article she was particularly fond of ruined, but otherwise, worked with fervor.
When she moved to the kitchen to pack whatever food supplies she could, she found Wheeljack had made short work of any electrical appliance he could get a hold of. Wires were strewn every which way and the inventor was shoving what he was keeping in a plastic shopping bag. Crystal instructed everyone else to take the rest of the luggage out to the car while she went to grab Optimus.
The Autobot leader had pulled himself up into a sitting position in attempt to see what was going on. Crystal knelt in front of him.
"Sorry to keep hauling you around, but we have to go."
"You should to go the police," he told her weakly. "You could be in danger."
"I have to get you out of the city," Crystal argued. "We'll worry about this later and you're hardly in a position to tell me what I need to do."
"These are... my troops," Optimus told her. He was fading. "I am... Prime and I..."
"Oh, not today," Crystal interrupted. "Today, I am Prime and you have no say until you're better." With that, she scooped him up and headed for the door.
Before stepping out, Crystal took one last look at her ravaged apartment. Most of her possessions had been ruined. Sure, it was just stuff, but it was her stuff and it was all she had. Worst of all, something in the back of her mind told her she would not be coming back. She took a deep breath to steel herself and then ran downstairs for the car.
Below, the trunk was packed and all the Autobots were gathered and ready to leave. Crystal placed Optimus in the back seat so Wheeljack could work on him while they drove. She then went to get in the driver's seat when a man's voice called to her.
"Ms. Carlisle, we need to have a word with you."
Crystal froze and slowly turned around to see two men in suits approaching the car.
"Mr. Russo was a bit offended when you didn't come back to see him."
Her mind whirled with arguments and excuses. But she knew none of them would matter. These men were sent specifically to give her a message. They would not be dissuaded by anything she had to say so Crystal stayed silent.
"You're not thinking of leaving town, are you?"
The second man frowned. "I think you need to come with us instead."
At that remark, the first man felt something press against the side of his temple. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a white and black figure about the size of a small child standing on a trash can and pressing a gun to his head.
The second man balked in surprise.
"What the-"
"Don't move unless you want to say good-bye to your knee caps," Wheeljack said, pressing his blaster against the back of the thug's knees.
"What the hell is this?" the first man demanded. "You can't expect us to believe-"
Prowl shot at the ground, making both men jump. They stared at the smoking hole in the concrete as Prowl returned his blaster to the first man's head.
"They are real, I assure you," Prowl told him. "But I swear you will not be hurt if you kindly remove your weapons and hand them to my colleague over there. Communication devices as well."
Both men slowly removed a hand gun and a cell phone each and dropped them at Ironhide's feet.
"Mah metal detector says ya got more," he insisted of the second man. "Give it up."
Another gun was dropped, and a knife. When Ironhide had gathered them all, he promptly crumpled and bent the devices in his hands. One of the thugs took a step back in surprise of such strength from such a little thing.
"Crystal, get in the car," Prowl said calmly, not taking his optics off the man in front of him.
Crystal did as she was told, shutting the door behind her. Slowly, the rest of the Autobots got in as well.
Prowl remained outside, watching the two men as Crystal pulled out into the street. He put his weapon away and nodded to the Dinobot leader. "Grimlock."
Grimlock transformed into dinosaur mode and spat a neat line of fire right at the toes of the men. They jumped back and cursed, but did nothing else.
The remaining two bots ran for the car and Crystal drove off as fast as she could. The two men were left with a dying fire and wondering what they were going to tell their boss.
Crystal sped through the narrow New York streets as fast as the traffic would allow. Jazz, who was sharing the front with Grimlock, noticed she was gripping the steering wheel so hard it turned her knuckles white.
"Crys, you doing okay?"
Crystal swerved wildly into another lane to pass up the car ahead of her.
"Not now, Jazz," she said in a strained voice. "I'm trying to get out of the city before anything else happens."
Jazz looked ahead. "Crys! Red light! Red light!"
Crystal slammed on her breaks, jostling around the two Autobots in front. Wheeljack and Ironhide held onto Optimus while Prowl grabbed Blaster.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" Crystal cried. "Everyone okay?"
"Just pay attention while yer're driving!" Ironhide shot back.
Crystal kept quite as the light turned green and she pressed on the gas, slower this time.
The group made it out of the city and onto the sparse traffic of the late night freeway. Inside the car it was silent. The only sounds were from Wheeljack welding on Optimus Prime's broken circuits in the back seat. A pale blue light flickered from the repair, but Crystal tried to keep her eyes on the road. Soon New York City was nothing but glitter in her rear view mirror. No more thugs, no more Decepticons, just miles and miles of dark road ahead.
For two hours no one said a thing. The car radio played low, late night music the hardly drowned out the sound of the engine. Finally, Crystal pulled over at a gas station to fill her tank. The Autobots were all left in the car while she stood at the pump, blankly watching the numbers roll.
The pump clicked it was done and Crystal continued to stand there. A few pairs of blue optics watched her curiously, wondering what she was doing. The girl stared forlornly off into the darkness of the road they had come. Slowly, she slid down the side of the car until she was sitting on the ground.
Prowl and Ironhide were peering through the window, trying to see her and figure out what to do. Jazz was already climbing out of the passenger door. He walked around the car to find Crystal with her knees to her chest and her hands clutching her hair.
"Hey Crys, uh... how you holding up?" he asked as he tentatively approached her.
Crystal's fingers dug deeper into her scalp. "Just having a little bit of a panic attack here," came her muffled, strained voice. "I've got giant jets, metal cats and goons with guns trying to kill me. I left everything behind and now I'm out in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of robots in my car, trying to trek across the continent." Her voice continued to rise with panic. "This is not how I pictured it would go, Jazz!"
Jazz pushed her head up with authority, wedging himself between her face and her knees. He straddled her hips and pried the hands out of her hair. "Hey, don't freak out on us now, okay?" He clapped his palms to her cheeks. "We need you. We're past the hardest part. I know this wasn't the plan, but if we can all make it back together, everything will be okay, I promise."
Crystal stared at him, her face hanging in his hands. Then her shoulders sagged and she dropped her forehead to the white four on his chest, sighing heavily. Jazz, with lack of knowing what else to do, patted her head.
"You did good, Crys," he told her in a softer voice. "It's going to be okay."
She lifted her head. "We should probably get on the road," she said softly, though she looked tired.
She stood, lifting Jazz with her, and deposited him in the passenger seat before sliding into the driver's side. There was a pregnant pause as she stared out the windshield, but then finally started the car.
"You should look for a place to rest for the night," Prowl said from the back. "It's getting very late."
Crystal looked at him through the rear view mirror. "That sounds like a good idea."
They drove for an hour more before stopping in front of a small town motel. The Autobots waited in the car as Crystal got herself a room with a single bed. Then she came back to steer the car closer to her room. It was late. No one else was around to witness the group of autonomous robots spill from the car.
Crystal carried Optimus in first and lay him on the bed. She went back out to gather what provisions she needed for the night.
"So what's the verdict on our patient?" she asked upon entering again and closing the door behind her.
"Well, he's as fixed as I can manage with the tools I've had to work with," Wheeljack said. "But he's lost a dangerous amount of energy. If anyone has any spare energon rations, now's the time to bring them out."
As everyone checked their personal supplies, Crystal decided she was done smelling like sweat and filth and jumped into the shower. She hissed as hot water spilled over her back and reminded her of all her new injuries. Her hand had been throbbing ever since the fight. The night's adrenaline had kept the pain at the back of her mind until now. It hurt to make a fist and the knuckles were swelling. It wasn't just a bruise, she had probably fractured something.
Not much Crystal could do about it tonight. She let it sit under the hot water, rubbing it as her hands started to shake violently. The full gravity of her situation came down on her like a weight on her chest. Even at the gas station, it didn't feel like it felt now; like the world was closing in and life as she knew it was over. All strength seemed to leave her body and she fell to her knees. All her internal horror was drowned out by the thrumming of the water.
Crystal emerged silently from the bathroom in her pajamas. The full realization of the night's escapades weighed fully on her and the Autobots noticed. She trudged to the bed and slowly climbed in, taking care not to disturb Optimus laying on the other side. The Autobots looked at each other, but otherwise said nothing. Crystal curled up on her side with her back to them and let out a slow breath. Somewhere behind her, someone turned out the lights.
She didn't know when she had fallen asleep. All she recalled was waking up in the dark, heart pounding as if something were after her. It took a moment to take in the shadowed, unfamiliar surroundings and remember where she was. Crystal sat up feeling groggy and disoriented. Her head was pounding and heavy, her mouth felt full of cotton balls. Her shirt was soaked in sweat.
She weakly got up and used the bed as a guide to feel her way over to her travel bag on the floor.
"Is everything okay?" asked Prowl's calm voice from the darkness.
"I'll be fine," Crystal croaked. Her hands were fumbling and weak in the dark.
She dug through her bag for a spare T-shirt, then shed her sweat-soaked one. A line of moonlight streamed in through a crack in the curtains, spilling over her form. Prowl could see the heavy bruising on her bare back before she clothed herself.
Crystal got up and gingerly made her way back to bed. Prowl, noting her stiff movements, followed her and climbed up on the bed as she got in. As she lay staring at the ceiling, Prowl sat cross legged next to her. Crystal turned her head to look at him, thinking back to how he was always her ever present shadow, always behind her through everything. It made her wonder about him.
"Prowl?"
He reached out to touch her forehead. She jerked from the contact, but then relaxed again.
"Your body temperature is higher than what my research says is healthy," he told her matter-of-factly. "You need to rest."
"Prowl," Crystal repeated as if she hadn't heard him, "you're real, right?"
He just looked at her, confused at the question.
"You're alive. You're not just a machine– a robot. You're real."
"Yes," Prowl said softly as he leaned in closer, "I'm real."
"Prove it to me," Crystal whispered, desperation in her voice. "Prove to me that I didn't just risk it all for nothing. Prove to me I really saved lives."
Prowl didn't know what to say. He never had to prove his existence before. How could one come up with logical, solid evidence one was alive aside from being one's own self? There was nothing he could think of. Instead, the only response he could come up with was to pick up where he left off from the last night he sat in bed with her.
"'Who are you?' said the Caterpillar.
This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, 'I hardly know, Sir, just at present– at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have changed several times since then...'"